


The Rook's Endgame

by Algol



Series: The Endgame Trilogy [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-25 09:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4954522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Algol/pseuds/Algol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A valuable chess piece makes a sacrificial gambit for the Queen, but not even Robin's tactical skill could have prepared him for the turnabout of such a play. (Part One of the Endgame Trilogy.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Turn

 

Robin deeply understood the consequences of attraction the more his mind lost focus on his work and instead sought Chrom's magnetic laughter as it burst from the other end of the dining hall table. Without thinking he looked up and caught blue hair swept aside cheerful eyes and an unabashed grin, a tableau made all the more surreal beneath the golden glow of a candelabra. 

Robin didn't know if other men found Chrom distractedly charming. There were women who agreed with that sentiment, but Robin supposed Prince's like Chrom were naturally appealing to young, eligible women. He was disarming, charismatic, and by all accounts looking for a woman to marry. It was natural to assume Chrom had many admirers, but as Robin went back to his book--determined to finish the chapter on strategic maneuvers over rugged terrain--he wondered if any of those admirers were men. 

When Robin first met the Shepherds he was amazed how tight-knit they were. The group shared more than watered down wine and harrowing battle stories. They picked flowers and played pranks, taught cooking and mended underclothes. They were a family, and it took a very long time for Robin to feel like he belonged on the receiving end of their unnumbered affections. Chrom spent more time than anyone lavishing Robin with attention. It seemed like the Prince used every spare moment away from court taking an active role in Robins day, no matter how mundane and uneventful it was. There were late evenings filled with dry research--obscure scrolls which referenced even more obscure scrolls--and yet Robin was convinced Chrom desired nothing more than to sit beside him, mired in crumbling texts and musty parchments. Robin didn't believe Chrom actually found such evenings fun, that would be bookish Miriel's idea of excitement, but there was a clear aura of contentment from Chrom that made Robin smile despite his growing concern.

Another bell of laughter sounded and Robin finally gave up on finishing his chapter. He marked the page before pushing the heavy tome back into a canvas sack beside his feet. Chrom, who previously seemed so distracted by Gaius' story, noticed Robin's freedom immediately. 

"Robin! Come join us down here!" Chrom's grin was shining and Robin couldn't look away. "Gaius said he was just getting to the good part."

Gaius smirked against his wine cup before taking a long drink. "You should join us Bubbles. The dog in the story reminds me of you."

Robin learned long ago not to find Gaius' comments offensive, and instead played along. "Oh? Does this dog outsmart you by any chance? I could understand the resemblance if it did.”

His orange-haired friend barked a laugh. “It’s smart and feisty. Two of your most notable traits.” 

Chrom patted the empty chair at his side, amused eyes catching the light in a way that made him look ethereal. Robin knew when he was doomed, and resigned himself to a night of drinking and exchanging stories of entendre and innuendo.

* * * * * * * 

Robin’s fateful night turned into an early, brutal morning. After the third (perhaps fourth?) pitcher of wine and a plate of rosemary biscuits--courtesy of Frederick who rightly suspected the food might mitigate their impending hangovers--Robin stumbled back to his quarters in what he only remembered as a swimming haze. Gaius was evil, drinking both Chrom and Robin under the table while remaining suspiciously sober. Gaius had probably been drinking a very watered down version of the same wine he generously served while expressing inordinate delight in their drunken commentary. Robin had to admit that Chrom was an extremely endearing drunk, and that wasn’t his rose-colored inebriation talking. The flushing cheeks of a tipsy Chrom framed a smile that became something all its own--impossibly kind and unburdened. There was an innocence to Chrom that made his drunken shenanigans adorable, though Robin suspected attraction tempered his opinion.

Despite those enjoyable memories, Robin now cursed the sunlight streaming over his face and the birds chirping merrily on a crooked branch near his window. He forgot it was impossible to sleep in, too many early morning marches and strategy reviews during the Plegian-Ylisse war had trained his body to wake with the sun. With too much effort and too little forethought he sat up, quivering from the full brunt of a throbbing headache he desperately tried to will away.

The pounding in his head, like the harsh rapping of knuckles against wood grain, became worse so he flopped back to his pillow and hoped lying prone would make the world stop spinning.

“Robin?” Came a muffled voice beyond his door followed by additional raps. “Robin did you forget you were summoned by the council for an audience today?”

It was Frederick, and not the Frederick-sounding illusion Robin hoped was making that noise.

“Robin if you don’t answer me I will be forced to open this door.” He sounded both stern and worried. Classic Frederick.

Robin moaned a reply which was muffled by his face smashed into a down pillow.

“Robin!” The door swung wide and a very fresh-looking, wide-eyed Frederick rushed into Robin’s room. “Are you ill?”

That was a silly question to ask a man one saw drinking heavily the night before. Of course he was ill.

“Oh.” Frederick suddenly remembered. “I thought for sure I watered down those pitchers…”

Ah hah. So Gaius had partaken Frederick’s mercy and Chrom and Robin had been played by Gaius’ devilry. Classic Gaius. Proof of his suspicions didn't make Robin feel any better.

Frederick appeared grave as he stated, “The council will not like this at all.”

Robin shoved one leg over his bed in a poor attempt at appearing well enough to move. “I can do it,” he assured with very little confidence. He in fact didn’t think he could do anything but moan but it wouldn’t be the first time Robin put on fake smiles while ignoring a splitting headache.

Frederick was not impressed. “It would look bad to reschedule but...I think it would be worse to show up as you are now.” His eyes took a determined edge. “I will approach Senior Advisor Villus about---”

“Don’t bother,” Robin interrupted. He didn’t want Frederick making amends for his sake. He was the Royal Tactician and any weakness showed now would only bite him later. “Give me some boiled water, watercress, lemon and a teaspoon of shaved cinnamon. And fifteen minutes. Tell the council I was held up by a few last minute preparations.” 

The look on Frederick’s face was almost worth how terrible Robin felt. He was a difficult man to surprise. “Of course.” Frederick inclined his head with a half-smile on his lips before leaving the room. 

Robin sighed deeply, enjoying the peace of his bed for a moment longer before taking the first steps of the day. His head felt marginally better after splashing water on his face, combing out the tangles in his hair and putting on fresh clothes. At least to the casual observer he appeared awake. And hopefully not hungover. The components to his herbal concoction arrived and he mixed them together, downed it with a wince, and entered the long hall which lead to the council’s meeting chamber still tasting the fiery burn of cinnamon and the sharp tang of lemon.

It wasn’t that Robin forgot about his morning meeting with the wizened members of Ylisse’s governing body, it was just he had been incapable of refusing Chrom’s invitation last night. That wasn’t Robin’s first clue he was in over his head, or rather head over heels, where Chrom and his teasing smiles were concerned. There had been many signs over the past few months that his infatuation showed no hope in resolving itself anytime soon.

The tactician leaned against the decorative arch bracing the chamber door and rubbed his temples. He couldn’t possibly blame Chrom for something out of the man’s control, and Robin was absolutely certain Chrom had no idea how much he affected him. With a breathy inhale Robin pushed away from the wall and walked into the council chamber, purpose in his steps and sharp eyes moving from one wrinkled face to another. The council members regarded him neutrally, all except Senior Advisor Villus whose flat-lined lips and narrowed eyes telegraphed annoyance. 

“I would ask what preparations could have possibly accounted for your tardiness, but I’m sure your brilliant answers to our inquiries will shed light on that matter?”

Robin offered the man a placating smile. “I know what you want Advisor Villus. There is no need to skirt the issue.”

Villus sputtered indignantly, tossing affronted glances around the room. He was the only one with ruffled feathers and, after obvious consideration, he decided to let Robin’s comment slide. “Then I assume you know how to get the Prince to stop dallying with his little army and do what needs to be done for the sake of the Halidom?”

“First off,” Robin began calmly, taking long strides around the room. “That little army just defeated Plegia, so I think the Shepherds deserve more respect. Secondly--”

Robin stopped at the back of the room, circle of expectant eyes watching his every move. “I think you know as well as I do that Lord Chrom will never accept a political marriage.”

Villus rolled his eyes and huffed, “Yes, we know that. Our question is how do we get him to marry at all? The Halidom needs an exalt and an heir. We will not allow yet another royal to remain unmarried and childless and thus leave our territories vulnerable to instability should something unseemly occur.”

Robin nodded thoughtfully. Though he didn’t like the Advisor much, the man had a point. If something were to happen to Chrom--martyring, self-sacrificing Chrom--then Ylisse would have only one option left, and Princess Lissa was too young and certainly not yet prepared for the burden of leadership. That would leave Ylisse weak and vulnerable to another attack, or even civil unrest. Chrom’s personal mission against the local banditry had the good consequence of showing his citizens they were safe and protected. They would never see Lissa as their protector, no matter how capable she had been on the battle front. 

Villus was right. Chrom needed a legitimate heir, which was achieved by a legitimate marriage. A royal wedding would also be viewed as a significant sign of Ylisse’s growth and increasing stability. And the council was convinced only Robin could make that happen.

“I agree,” Robin said at last. “The princess is much too young, and the people don’t see her as an obvious protector of the Halidom. Prince Chrom’s marriage would become a symbol of hope.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“And?” Villus prompted impatiently. “Your solution?”

Robin didn’t actually have a solution. He couldn’t control Chrom’s will, nor did he want to. He could no more solve their problem than he could marry Chrom himself, so what he offered now was an actionable idea. It was better than Chrom’s exasperated frown anytime they broached the subject of celibacy in his presence. 

“The Shepherds. There are eligible women in their ranks and many have powerful friendships with Prince Chrom already.”

As much as Villus didn’t like the Shepherds continued presence during Ylisse’s state of peace, even he had to admit there were women from noble houses that were marriage-material for a prince. 

“And how do you propose we start? I assume Prince Chrom would sniff out any match-making on our behalf.”

“He opposed the idea in the past with other matches,” another council member added.

“He will know if you have your hand in something,” Robin agreed, “Which is why I am suggesting that Frederick and I handle the matter.”

“And you have no problem manipulating your precious comrades in arms?” Villus asked with an amused smile. “Those who blindly trust in your every word?”

It was clear to Robin, and probably no one else, that Villus questioned his loyalty to Ylisse. “You confuse manipulation with tactic. It is Prince Chrom who might not see the forest for its trees.”

Chrom wasn’t a fool, but he was unskilled in recognizing the affections of others. That was actually a good thing, otherwise Robin might be worried about Chrom realizing his best male friend found him attractive in more ways than one.

"Well, the young noble woman Maribelle is probably the most qualified of the lot. I suggest you start with her."

The way Villus said "qualified" made Robin's stomach turn. He might as well have said well-bred. It amounted to the same thing. Despite the obvious personality differences between Maribelle and Chrom, she was a good match. Loyal, caring--in her own way--diplomatic and Chrom's childhood friend.

"I shall start there," Robin announced, ignoring Villus’ self-satisfied smile. "Now if that will be all...?"

Villus cleared his throat noisily. "We expect progress reports on a weekly basis. If you really are the brilliant man everyone claims then I expect a royal wedding announcement this year."

Robin frowned. "I will not throw Chrom into a loveless marriage Senior Advisor, but rest assured I will put every effort into this." Robin would make the council’s request his personal mission, if for no other reason than ensuring Chrom’s happiness. Villus would have blithely decided Chrom’s life partner as if it was an agenda to fulfill, and Robin would never allow that to happen to his dearest friend.

The council seemed satisfied with Robin’s solution and eagerly awaited his first report. Villus’ beady eyes spoke of something other than satisfaction, but Robin didn’t feel like dissecting the man’s many unpleasant moods. He left the chamber and made way back to his quarters, intending to deliberate over the matter more thoroughly before calling Frederick. Robin wasn’t fluent in the unspoken language of the heart, but he knew the matter must be approached with utmost care. He loved all of his companions and didn't want to cause them pain. They were finally starting to adjust to life outside of constant warfare.

Watching Chrom fall in love with another would certainly crush Robin's heart, including the hope he kept stashed in the deepest recesses of his mind, but the continued happiness of his friends was a worthwhile sacrifice of the highest order.


	2. Second Turn

As Robin approached the heavy door to his quarters, head filled with the familiar buzz of statistical probabilities and potential outcomes, his heart leaped at the sudden echo of his name.

“Robin,” Chrom called from down the hall as he made quick work of the distance between them, “I was hoping you were up.” Blue eyes roamed Robin’s state of dress. “But not expecting the formal tactician attire. Did I miss something?”

Robin gave Chrom a warm smile. “I just felt like being extra productive today since I didn’t get any work done last night. And you? I thought for sure you would be in bed nursing a hangover today.”

“Oh I feel awful,” Chrom admitted, “But Sully would have my hide if I copped out on her morning training. I was just on my way to the stables.”

The stables were on the opposite side of the castle, and Chrom must have noticed Robin’s emerging confusion because he hurriedly added, “But I wanted to stop by and see how you were faring.” He looked sheepish as he scratched his cheek. “I feel like I might have pushed you into spending that time with me and I felt--well I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Robin was caught off-guard by Chrom’s words, surprise etched into his face. The prince's attentiveness wasn’t unusual, but no amount of rationale chased away the flutter of Robin's heart. He cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of Chrom’s closeness and the concerned blue eyes which now filled his vision.

“Oh…I’m fine. I’m an adult Chrom,“ Robin laughed, hoping it sounded light and easy, “I'm responsible for my own decisions. I rather enjoyed last night and I certainly don’t blame you for my current headache. It’s actually not that bad.”

Robin found he didn’t know where to place his hands, they rested awkwardly at his sides, but moving them would only close more distance between himself and Chrom. Instead he opted for clasping them behind his back. “If we blame anyone it should be Gaius. Did you know he was drinking water most of the night?”

“Was he?” Chrom shook his head, smile still on his face. “Then I suppose we are as much to blame for not suspecting his trickery sooner.”

Robin had suspected Gaius’ ploy quite early in the evening, but he had secretly enjoyed watching Chrom's smile grow larger with every drink. It had been worth the persistent ache that now plagued him.

“I suppose so,” Robin agreed as he began a subtle retreat towards the door to his room. Chrom’s eyes tracked him in a way Robin could spend hours analyzing. “You should probably get to the stables, I doubt Sully will appreciate waiting.”

Chrom’s gaze snapped from Robin and he looked uneasy for a moment. “Yeah, of course.” Then the sun came back into his smile and everything was right with the world. A slice of light from a high window illuminated Chrom's face as he stepped forward. “I should tell you not to overdo it today, but that might be hypocritical.”

Robin snorted. “Just a bit.”

And then Chrom was jogging down the hall, greaves clanking and blue cape dancing. Robin exhaled a long breath to calm the excited thumping of his heart. Not for the first time Robin wished Chrom was free to do as he pleased, free to have choices in all matters. It was an impossible dream given the political upheaval such freedom would inevitably cause. Royalty were often forced into unenviable positions, history was very exact on that count, but Robin’s supportive role positioned him at a strategic center--an advantage he would play for Chrom’s benefit. Politics were simply another battlefield, and Robin was becoming just as adept in the governing arena as he was on the war front.

When Robin retreated to his room he already had the silver clasps of his heavy cloak undone. He used one hand to toss it onto his bed and the other to slide into a chair at a desk pushed against a towering window. The morning sun, having crested a stand of old trees to the east, offered plenty of light for his work. After an hour of careful consideration Robin decided upon a second move to make in an effort to both appease the council and find Chrom a suitable--and hopefully loving--partner.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

"...beg your pardon?" Frederick finally spoke, normally attentive stance faltering.

Robin smiled apologetically. "It seems the council expects you to help me find Chrom a wife."

"Why would they...I mean it's not as though I'm familiar with such matters."

"Ah well, I requested your aid. I wanted someone close to the Shepherds but could also remain impartial during the selective process. It was--my apologies, it was rather sudden of me to make that decision without your approval." Robin sighed heavily and leaned against the edge of his desk. "They put me on the spot and you were the first person I considered."

Frederick slowly digested Robin’s words. "I understand...but Lord Chrom hasn't declared an interest in our female soldiers to my knowledge. In fact he--"

The knight stopped, eyes shifting to one of the many bookcases lining Robin's room. The sudden stop mid-conversation was odd and Robin opened his mouth to say exactly that; then Frederick's attention moved back to Robin, chasing away the question on his tongue.

"Are you certain you can do this?" The knight asked, face stony but words softer than before.

Robin kept his gaze steady, lest he rouse suspicion. Frederick was a keen observer. "What do you mean?"

The stalwart gaze that met him suggested Frederick was aware of something Robin had hoped remained secret. "One would think it a difficult thing to--" But Frederick reconsidered his words and simply sighed. "I suppose you're doing this because you care for him. It's quite admirable."

"We all care for Chrom. I just happen to be able to exercise more influence over those who would see him trapped in a politically-fueled union. Not a single one of Chrom’s friends would want that. I'm no different than anyone else." Robin’s fingers twitched anxiously, an instinct he couldn't control when his words skirted the truth. It was an unfortunate tell but one he disguised with conviction in his eyes. Frederick pondered the words and seemed to find them adequate. "I wouldn't want to see our lord unhappy either. If I can help I will certainly do so."

Robin returned a relieved smile. "Thank you Frederick." He picked a sheet of paper from the desk and handed it over. "Here is a list of the most sensible choices based on age, childhood experiences, goals, personality and current relationship to Chrom. Please let me know what you think."

The intensity in Frederick's eyes didn't waver until he looked up and said, "I think I understand why ladies' Maribelle, Sumia, and Sully are on this list. But...Lord Chrom hardly knows Olivia."

"Ah, I thought you might question that particular choice. I think her ceaseless efforts to rally morale and improve herself are admirable qualities for a Queen. Plus..."

Robin accepted his list from Frederick and skimmed his own ink marks for the hundredth time. "I believe Chrom is attracted to her."

Frederick looked uncomfortable as he replied, "Well...that's certainly expected. She's a fine woman, very dedicated to her work."

Robin stifled a laugh. "You can confess you find her pretty too, that's not a crime Frederick."

"I will not recount only her external beauty if she is to be one of Lord Chrom's potential partners," the knight insisted, obviously ignoring Robin’s teasing.

"Alright...ever the gentleman." The tactician cleared his throat before starting anew. "Villus agreed with Maribelle's consideration as well so I would like to start there. Everyday she hosts tea at her father’s estate, eleven o'clock sharp. The typical turnout seems to be young members of the magistrate’s inner circles and various debutantes.”

“An odd format for Lord Chrom to pay a surprise visit,” Frederick iterated. Robin nodded.

“Unless Maribelle’s father and Magistrate Elmsley happened to be there as well. Which is why I took the liberty to encourage Maribelle to step up her political intentions and use her tea room as a casual gateway into the Magistrate’s favor. It also didn’t hurt that I informed the Magistrate I had a few ideas to run past him and I would be in the area around the same time.”

Frederick smothered a smile. “You have everything planned it seems...except how to get Lord Chrom to attend. He hates formal gatherings, and I don’t think he is overly fond of the Magistrate.”

“Except he IS overly fond of his little sister Lissa, who happens to back Maribelle’s political pursuit and is under the impression that Chrom’s presence tomorrow will help Maribelle. I have three letters at the ready.” Robin took three immaculately pressed envelopes from his desk drawer and handed them to Frederick. “All I need is you to deliver these and everything will be ready for tomorrow.”

“Impressive...but not unexpected. Very well. Shall I also attend with Lord Chrom?”

“Yes, just in case he needs an extra push.”

“Does Lady Maribelle know your true agenda?”

“Yes...and no. She actually knows how hard the council is pushing for Chrom to marry, partly through Lissa and partly because she knows how high society thinks. But I doubt she knows she’s one of our candidates.”

“Is that wise? It feels rather...deceptive.”

“This is the first meeting. I don’t expect a marriage proposal. I just want to know if they are a romantic match, and if they are we can move forward from there with less deception and a clearer intent. Does that sound more agreeable?”

“I did not...I wasn’t questioning your integrity Robin,” Frederick frowned. “I apolo--”

“No need,” Robin interjected hastily, “And I appreciate your candidness.” Robin respected Frederick’s integrity and planned to use it to keep himself in check. There was always a chance his plan could derail into less wholesome territory and he was banking on Frederick’s higher mindedness to keep the balance. 

The knight nodded, pressing Robin’s letters against his armored chest. “I shall deliver these at once.”

“Thank you. Tea time is eleven o’clock, be ready to escort Lissa and Chrom at ten thirty.”

“Certainly.” Frederick made his way out the door, turning back once as he added, “And Robin...I am glad you are on our side. I don’t think I say that often enough, but your plan just reminded me how lucky Lord Chrom is to have you.”

Robin couldn't contain the slight blush rising to his cheeks. “I will always help my friends however I can.”

Frederick pursed his mouth but said nothing. After a beat he simply nodded and marched down the hall, armored shins clanking as he went. Robin breathed a sigh and slumped down into his chair. His second move, so far, went off without a hitch.

 

* * * * * * * * * * *

It wasn’t accurate to say Robin’s plan was a disaster. Sometimes there was a loosely interpreted line between potential outcomes and actual outcomes, and sometimes there was a rift the size of the Halidom. Robin considered the results of his second move closer to the latter. Though as he observed Maribelle regaling Lissa’s role as a medic during the war to Magistrate Elmsley, causing Lissa to blush profusely, and Chrom’s unfortunate situation on the couch with a needy debutante, his plan certainly appeared a disaster. Frederick stood beside Chrom attempting to distract the young woman who didn’t quite seem to read the situation well enough to know Chrom was biting at the bit to get away from her, and Robin watched events unfold from his place beside Maribelle’s father. The man was desperately trying to outmaneuver Robin at a game of chess, and failing miserably. 

“Your move Robin,” Maribelle’s father spoke suddenly, after what seemed an eternity of anxious deliberation, and Robin turned towards the board only to find himself struggling to keep from boggling at the obvious blunder he saw there. For a learned man, Maribelle’s father was a terrible strategist. Robin had finally reached his breaking point.

“I’m sorry to cut our game short my lord, but I really must get back the castle.” He pushed his rook into a favorable position. “Check.”

Maribelle’s father seemed embarrassed. “Ah I thought for sure I...never mind. Yes of course. Sorry to keep you so long. Do you think maybe we could continue--”

Robin was already moving away from the man. “Sir Frederick! Would you mind escorting Lord Chrom and Lady Lissa back to the castle?”

The frilled girl beside Chrom pushed her painted lips into a faux pout. “Aww, so soon? I was hoping we could--”

Chrom sat upright so quickly he almost knocked her over. “So sorry...I really must go! There are, uh, important things! That I must do. You understand?”

She didn’t understand, given the curious tilt of her slender neck, but Chrom wasn't going to explain. He promptly joined Robin, and when Maribelle finally let go of Lissa’s arm, Frederick led them through the exterior garden towards Capital Road.  
As far as second moves go, it wasn’t the worst outcome Robin predicted but a surprisingly bad one nonetheless. The tactician side-eyed Frederick, catching the man’s sullen expression. They both were thinking the same thing: Maribelle was not the one for Chrom.


	3. Third Turn

Both Frederick and Robin arrived to the same conclusion: Maribelle was far more attentive towards Lissa than Chrom. More than just attentive. Robin was almost certain she harbored romantic feelings for the young princess. Frederick agreed, though he was initially reluctant to admit something that sounded like idle gossip.

“Well, whether or not we are right, our path remains the same: we move on to our next candidate.” Robin leaned against his desk, once again holding the list of potential marriage candidates he had selected for Chrom. 

“Lady Sumia?”

“Yes...and I must admit I have high hopes given her repertoire with Chrom.” Robin refrained from letting out a dejected sigh. Out of all of the young women interested in Chrom, Robin always thought Sumia was the one most capable of winning Chrom’s heart. There was an envy he buried whenever Sumia and Chrom spent time together. 

“Are you alright Robin?” Frederick asked, trademarked wariness etched on his face. Robin silently cursed his transparency.

“Yes, of course. I was just thinking of our next move.”

Then the knight surprised Robin. “I...have an idea actually.” He cleared his throat, not with apprehension but obvious discomfort. “As much as I don’t wish to play the game of a matchmaker, I know for certain Lady Sumia has always expressed a desire to show Lord Chrom the hill she picks flowers for her fortunes. It’s supposed to be a beautiful field accessible only by flying mount.”

“That sounds perfect...but they will be alone. How can we--” Robin faltered in his words, mind catching up with Frederick’s true plan. “Ah...the point is they will be alone.”

“I think our mistake with Maribelle was also in the distraction of others. We should let love find a natural course.”

Love. Chrom might fall in love. With someone other than Robin. Robin’s mouth stretched into a deceptively easy smile, as fraudulent as Gaius’ trick coin. “I think you might be right.”

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

In the end Frederick surprised Robin when he suggested the tactician speak with Sumia. Robin initially didn’t understand the man’s reason until Frederick said, “You should be the one to tell Lady Sumia to spend time with Lord Chrom.” It sounded ridiculous, Sumia didn’t need anyone’s permission to pursue Chrom. But in the wake of Frederick’s departure Robin understood: Sumia didn’t want to come between Robin and Chrom. Sumia knew. Maybe she didn’t know Robin was in love with Chrom, but she knew Robin shared something with Chrom he didn’t share with anyone else.

Robin put a hand against his chest. Sumia certainly wasn’t the smartest person in the Shepherds, nor was she the prettiest, the most skilled, or the most popular. She was an average girl who escaped notice until she clumsily tripped over something and drew attention to herself. It was her average-ness which worried Robin the most.

Other girls had more noticeable traits; things which drew desire and attention from others. Cordelia was skilled and beautiful; Nowi was exotic and curious; Tharja was dark and mysterious; Miriel was erudite and perceptive; even Lissa gained attention as an incorrigible prankster--on top of being a Princess of the realm. Robin knew the others well, he prided himself on his ability to befriend everyone in the group and get to know them in ways others did not. So he was being very honest when he described Sumia as sweet but otherwise unremarkable.

And that scared Robin.

As he made his way to the pegasi stables he tried to think of what to say to Sumia. His arrival wasn't expected but that hardly mattered. She would be pleasant and accommodating; more evidence she was a perfect companion for a Prince who had demands and expectations placed on his person all hours of the day. She was nothing like Robin, who wasn't average in the least and hardly pleasant and accommodating without an agenda. He had joined to the Shepherds wielding ferocious tactical skill and fearless command on the battlefield--the exact opposite of Sumia--and that side-by-side comparison shook Robin's core. 

If Sumia was the perfect companion for Chrom, then Robin--her opposite--must be the worst.

“Robin! So good to see you,” Sumia said cheerfully, carefully brushing her cherished mount.

Robin took note of his surroundings, uncertain when he had crossed the paddock and more than a little embarrassed to be caught so unawares.

“Ah, Sumia. It’s good to see you too.” He quickly swallowed his previous thoughts and flashed the woman a sunny smile. “I thought you might be here.”

Sumia laughed. “I’m always here. It’s my favorite thing to do. Well...it’s on the top of my list anyway. I also love to bake, but you knew that.”

Robin ambled through freshly cut grass until he was within arm’s reach of Sumia’s gleaming white pegasus. It had taken some time, but the animal was comfortable enough with Robin to allow a few soft strokes against its neck.

“And read romance novels,” Robin teased lightly. 

She colored immediately and tried to hide her face. “Robin! That’s a secret between you, me and Cordy.”

“I know. I haven’t told a soul.”

They fell into companionable chatter until Sumia finally asked if Robin had come to ask something specific. Despite the picture of innocence on her smiling face, Robin remembered Sumia might know of his harbored feelings for Chrom. He had to stay on guard, just in case.

“I have a favor to ask,” Robin began. He gave a final pat to the steed at Sumia’s side before settling onto a groomers bench a few feet away. Sumia put away her brush kit and joined him.

“You know I’m always happy to help. I’m not good at very many things but...I know you wouldn’t ask me unless you thought I could help.” She was so secure in her insecurity that Robin almost laughed aloud. She had no sense of the envy in his heart.

“I think you will be very good at this,” he said. She waited patiently for him to continue.

Robin breathed a troubled sigh, half theatrics and half genuine. “I’m worried about Chrom.”

“Did something happen?”

“No...not really. The usual court demands I suppose. What I mean to say is...I think Chrom needs more emotional support. You know how he is, he will never ask for our help, but I see the toll his duties haven taken on him and I think he needs us more than ever.”

Sumia nodded, eyes brimming with concern. “Of course, I couldn’t agree more. But you have to remember Prince Chrom has you at the castle with him. You offer a lot more support than you think. Just having you there makes him happier.”

Robin could only stare at Sumia, mouth refusing to work and heart thumping against his breastbone like an animal thrashing in a cage.

She continued, feet swinging carelessly against the grass. “Maybe you don’t see it because you’re there everyday and you know just how many burdens Prince Chrom has, but you make his life much better. I think his heart is much lighter just knowing you are there to handle things; he doesn’t have to be alone.”

Robin thought back to his previous musings. Sumia wasn’t the smartest or most perceptive member of the Shepherds, but right now that sentiment felt grossly inaccurate. Of course she was only saying the things Robin's heart dreamed when he allowed such things to pass unchecked. He wanted her to be right just as much as he thought she was wrong. 

When she faced him her eyes shone with painful sincerity. “He gets a lot of emotional support from you, whether you know it or not.”

Her average-ness trumped every methodical ploy whizzing through Robin’s head. And in that moment he realized what she was doing.

“Sumia...he needs you too. He needs all of us yes, but you are special to him as well. Never forget that.”

Her hands pressed against her knees, face half obscured by ash-brown hair. “I know, he’s very kind to me. He’s always been kind.”

“And it goes both ways. When Chrom needs someone kind and caring he likes to talk to you.”

Sumia pushed hair behind her ear. “If you say so…”

Robin was absolutely determined to move Sumia to action, despite the fact he was still reeling over the rawness of her declaration. She was daring him to hope and he wanted nothing more than to squash that hope by putting his plan into motion.

“So about that favor.”

“Oh! I’m so sorry, I talked so much. Yes, of course. You wanted me to help Prince Chrom with something?”

Robin felt relieved sitting in the familiar comfort of having control of the situation.

“I think Chrom is really stressed right now. No, I _know_ he is but he feels like he can’t step away from his duties. I heard on good authority you have a favored place for flower fortunes that’s particularly peaceful.”

She cocked her head, intrigued and confused. “Yes...but the only way to get there is on a wyvern or pegasus. Prince Chrom isn’t the best flyer. In fact, I think he barely tolerates flying on the back of my sweet Iris, though she really loves Prince Chrom. It’s so cute how much she tries to get his attention when he’s training with Sully.”

Sumia and her mount Iris had a lot in common, thought Robin.

“That’s where my favor comes in. I would like you to take Chrom to this place for a day, just long enough for him to forget about his duties and enjoy the fresh air. No politicians, no council members, nothing except the sun, the sky and--”

Sumia’s voice was an octave higher than normal when she interjected, “But I will be there!”

A slow smile spread over Robin’s lips. “That’s what I’m asking.”

“B--but! That’s…! Um, Robin I don’t think--”

“Please Sumia, I think Chrom is only comfortable flying on Iris so I can’t possibly ask someone else. Please! Chrom really needs some time away from the castle that doesn't involve a diplomatic errand.” As far as faking urgency goes, Robin was very pleased with his performance. Though in truth Chrom really did need some time away, and it was also true that he tolerated Iris more than the other airborne mounts. So really Robin wasn’t fabricating anything.

Sumia looked distressed. “Oh, w--well I guess that’s true. Is there really no one else?”

“Sumia, Chrom really enjoys time with you. He truly does. That’s why I came. But in the end it’s up to you, I don’t want to push you into anything.”

Robin sat back and watched a plethora of emotions play over Sumia’s face. She seemed elated, worried, embarrassed and...hopeful? That was a good sign. A very good sign.

She looked at the clouds passing overhead, silently contemplating them before she finally spoke to Robin. “He needs this doesn’t he? Our Prince Chrom.”

“Yes,” Robin replied.

“In that case I will do it. Prince Chrom and I will spend the day together.” She turned towards the tactician, a nostalgic smile on her face. “I look forward to it. We haven’t shared something like this since we were kids.”

“Thank you so much Sumia. I feel better knowing Chrom will have some time away from the council. They have been...really tough on him lately.” That was absolutely true.

Sumia shook her head. “It’s no trouble at all. I really am looking forward to it. When should I…?”

Robin rose from his seat. “I will set everything up, don’t worry. Chrom will meet you here tomorrow morning, the same time he trains with Sully. Is that alright?”

She nodded emphatically. “Oh yes I have nothing else to do! I mean...that sounded terrible didn’t it? What I meant was I have no problem flying Prince Chrom tomorrow morning.” Sumia blushed again but didn’t look away. She was determined to face Robin despite her fluster. He could tell she was excited and that both pleased and pained him. Robin was very good deploying tactical machinations and less apt at parsing his own emotions. And Sumia, whether she knew it or not, was very good at eliciting those emotions from Robin. 

“Excellent. Thank you Sumia.”

Now all Robin had to do was not spend the entirety of tomorrow thinking about Chrom and Sumia sharing a romantic getaway together. Sometimes the best laid plans hurt in the worst ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I have no idea what the name of Sumia's Pegasus is so I made one up. If it does have a canon name let me know :)


	4. Fourth Turn: Lucena Position

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lucena is intentional, and the proper spelling of "Lucena Position" which is a move in chess. I thought it was fitting for the chapter.

Sometimes Robin manipulated friends. Well, that wasn’t always true and he never did so for selfish goals or intentional harm. He was good at predicting moves and determining the best courses of action, but sometimes his tactical skill shrouded intent. So was it cold genius which drove Robin to move people like chess pieces, or was he their magnanimous caretaker? It scared him that he sometimes didn't know how to respond to that internal question.

The next morning Chrom wasn’t enthused about leaving the castle--and his duties--for an entire day. It was Frederick who had put on a convincing show and finally moved Chrom into agreeing to an outing with Sumia. Robin was surprised Chrom hadn’t asked more questions before leaving with an unsettled frown, gaze turned somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. One day Chrom was going to tire of being pushed in so many directions; even a man born into duty had limits. 

But Robin had only Chrom’s best interest at heart.

Now Robin sat alone at his desk, grim thoughts taking shape as he cradled his forehead against cold hands. The last vestiges of sunlight spiked from the western horizon, setting trees and hills ablaze and gleaming against Robin’s desk like firelight. It was almost time for Chrom to return to the castle and Robin had finally run out of distractions--there was nothing to stop his wandering thoughts. He imagined Chrom was already falling for Sumia’s quaint charm, satiated by homemade pie and unfettered smiles. Robin could never be so open and unguarded with Chrom. Every emotion had to stay in check, from friendly minutia to the gargantuan desire raging in his chest. In spite of the desperation he felt, Robin was coming to terms with Chrom’s heart finding love with another. And it hurt just as much as he had anticipated.

After a few more agonized moments Robin decided to go for a walk in the waning daylight. He expressly avoided any landing spots Sumia might use for her pegasus and instead found a tree-covered path meandering parallel to Capital Road. The shadows grew long and cool, but Robin was in no great hurry to find his way back to the castle. It wasn’t until he reached the wooden fence of a recently grazed pasture outside of city proper that he addressed the shadow that had followed him ever since he left the castle.

“I don’t know what you want but following me in silence will get you nowhere,” Robin announced coolly.

A figure stepped onto the path, blue hair bathed in the light of a just-rising moon. “How long have you known?”

Robin fingered the corner of an Arcthunder tome fastened against his hip, but did not feel threatened. “Since I left the castle actually. I was wondering when you might reveal yourself.”

The mysterious person only known as “Marth” chuckled mirthlessly. “And you were never afraid I might be waiting for the right moment to attack?”

“Those moments long passed us, so I assumed you wanted to talk instead of fight.”

Marth could have been surprised, it was hard to tell with the mask she wore. Whatever her reasons for impersonating the Hero-King of yore remained her own. “You’re right,” Marth said, taking a hand from the pommel of a sword that strikingly resembled the legendary Falchion. “I do want to talk.”

Robin continued along the fence line as he replied, “I assume you can both walk and talk at the same time?”

Marth released a breathy growl but followed him anyway, falling in step behind Robin like a second shadow. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a bit of an ass?”

“To my face? Not recently. But I suspect it’s said all the time behind my back. That’s what happens when people think you’re smarter than they are.”

“And are you?”

Robin sent a sly glance over his shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re insufferable but merit the titles you have won,” Marth responded with a forlorn sigh.

Robin smiled. “Now that we are on the same page, what can I help you with?” The sky was clear with a half-moon and cold stars glinting from their home in the darkness. The silhouettes of mountains loomed before them, ominous-looking siblings to the grassy knolls of Ylissean pastureland.

Marth made a sound of protest, but held back a biting remark and finally said, “I need to know what the council has decided to do about Prince Chrom’s...celibacy.”

Robin stopped suddenly, neck craned and eyes narrowed suspiciously towards the masked Marth. “You need to know or you want to know...those are two very different things.” What he didn’t ask was how Marth---how she--knew the council was pushing for Chrom to marry. That information could have come from innumerable sources, but only if one asked. It was strange she was asking at all.

“What matters is the answer to my question,” she blurted impatiently. “And I’m certain you have it.”

Robin fully faced her, noting the line of irritation that made up her mouth. Her evasion was suspect. “Need or want?” He reiterated with a bit more edge.

Marth bit at her lip, fingers flexing against the impostor Falchion. Robin didn’t think she was going to attack him, but rather felt assured by the feeling of the sword beneath her fingertips. “I want to know…” Marth finally revealed.

“Well then--” Robin turned back around, “You will have to wait like everyone else.”

“What? I thought for certain you of all people should---”

“That I should...what?” He interrupted. “That I should know the contents of another man’s heart? That I should know the certainties in his future? I don’t know what you think I’m capable of, but I assure you I can’t read minds or foresee the future.”

Marth remained silent but continued following Robin as he navigated a footpath to Capital Road’s cobbled lane. It was time to return to the castle, Robin decided. They tread wordlessly for quite some time, air populated only by the sounds of chirping insects and the hooting of an owl perched in a tree. Robin was about the give up and tell Marth to leave him in peace when she spoke: “I want to know because I care about Chrom...and I know you have no idea why but--” She shuddered a breath. “--just know that I have my reasons for worrying about his future. He has given so much for his country, for others, and he deserves a happy ending. More than anyone else.”

Until that moment, Robin didn’t think she knew Chrom very well. Turned out she knew him better than the Ylisse council. How she knew so much was a mystery Robin would deliberate another time. “You're right, he does deserve a happy ending. I doubt anyone would say otherwise. I’m not sure why you are particularly invested in that point, but I will save that discussion for another evening.” His boots scuffed across flat stones when he made an abrupt stop. “As friends of Chrom we do what we can to help him find happiness.” Robin faced her again, this time with a less guarded expression. He hoped she would understand that the depths of her feelings for Chrom’s well-being paralleled his own. That they were not enemies, but allies when it came to Chrom’s future. “The council’s wishes are a hammer, and we are tasked with softening its blows. No one can know the future, we can only guess what sorts of outcomes might come to pass. But the one thing we can do is make certain those outcomes involve Chrom’s happiness.”

Robin couldn't tell for certain, but Marth looked embarrassed. She lowered her head and replied, “Y-yes...I agree. I didn’t realize you thought so as well. I was worried that--”

Robin snorted. “That I would throw him to the political wolves? I know you don’t trust me but even you should see how much I value my friendship with Chrom.”

Marth raised her head with the speed of a whiplash. “In that case help him find the woman he is destined to marry. So he can have the child he is destined to have. I know that is the key to his happiness, and if you are truly his friend--and only his friend--you will make sure that happens.”

He looked at her like she had three heads. “What are you implying?” Marth couldn’t know his feelings for Chrom...could she? Just how transparent was he? Robin managed to disguise his anxiety with confusion. “I don’t know what you think I want from Chrom, but I also believe he deserves a loving family.”

Marth nodded in satisfaction. “Good. I hold you to that then.”

A sardonic grin spread over Robin’s face. “You seem to think I know exactly how to do that. I wonder why?”

The blue-haired woman simply shrugged her shoulders and turned back towards Ylisse’s rolling hillocks, away from the castle. “I think you know more than you admit,” she tossed back. “You and I both know there is only one thing stopping Chrom’s happily ever after.” And before Robin could mount a retort she disappeared into the tree line along the road.

Robin sighed, tugging the opening of his cloak tighter as a slight breeze chilled the air. He understood Marth’s words as a threat, but who was she really threatening? The council’s whims were the real dangers so why she felt the need to direct her threats towards Robin was puzzling. 

She was very wrong about thinking one thing hindered Chrom’s happy ending. Robin saw multitudes; and like any good tactician he weighed all obstacles as equal threats.

But Marth only saw one obstacle: Robin. 

He expected such news to sink in like a befuddling weight, but instead he felt impossibly light. That Marth should see Robin as a threat to Chrom’s destined marriage to a woman of noble standing brought a bubble of mirth roiling to the surface. 

Robin burst into laughter, a long and cleansing laugh that probably sounded crazed to sane ears. It was funny, too funny that someone thought him capable of winning Chrom’s heart. Even worse, they thought him capable of destroying his best friend’s chance for true happiness. He gave one last roaring laugh until the mirth subsided and he was left in the pervading silence of the night. Gone were the mellow chirps of insects and the hooting of an owl--likely frightened by the manic laughter of a man. The tense silence that surrounded Robin seemed much more fitting than the peaceful lull of star-shine and cricket songs.

Robin's walk back to the castle was filled by that silence, and knowledge that Marth had nothing to worry about. The light of a new day would expose the truth soon enough: Chrom and Sumia were going to have the happiness they deserved.


	5. Fifth Turn: Castling

Chrom wore the goofy-grin of a man in love while Robin’s mood alternated between sullen and accomplished. The days following Robin’s conversation with Marth yielded bright mornings, Ylissean pastures gleaming fertile and green in the distance, and castle servants gossiping over the fair mood of their dashing Prince. There were rumors abound that the Prince was courting a lovely young noble and that was why he had recently been seen visiting estates in Ylissean high-town, even vanishing from the castle grounds for an entire day. For his part Robin endured mixed feelings of success and dread, and avoided Chrom at all costs.

“Robin, do you have a moment?”

Robin paused from counting stores of vulneraries and elixirs, unsurprised by Frederick’s sudden appearance at the Shepherd’s warehouse. The man was prone to rising at unwholesome hours of the morning to catalog remaining weapons and items. Though, it was late in the day and rather odd to see Frederick anywhere but in the kitchens preparing Chrom and Lissa’s evening tea and biscuits.

“Ah, yes. I do actually. And if you can spare the time, I would like you to look over my report for the council. I think they will be pleased by our progress.”

Frederick released an uncharacteristic huff, brows knitted in what looked like concern and mild irritation. “I think you should wait to hand over that report.”

Robin went back to his list of vulnaries and resumed counting. After marking off the contents of a fourth crate he lifted his quill. “That was the point of our work Frederick. It does us no good to wait when we have our answer.”

Frederick took a few steps into the warehouse. “Do we have that answer Robin?”

Robin laughed tightly. “Of course we do! Haven't you seen Chrom?”

Even though Robin didn’t face Frederick, he could hear the exasperation in the man’s voice. “You’re the smartest man I know Robin. A man who has surpassed even the most prestigious Ylissean scholars and tacticians despite being decades younger. There is no one who can match your intellect, and yet I am quite serious when I say that I think you’re being stupid.”

“Stupid?” Robin echoed, rounding on his heels. His grip on the counting board tightened as he stepped forward. “I value your opinion Frederick, but I don’t take kindly to slander.”

“I only say it because you are now purposefully hiding from Lord Chrom.”

After several days of a souring mood, Frederick's words were like cups pouring into an overflowing bucket. “I'm not hiding, I'm busy." That much was true, Robin had all but buried himself in work. "And you should be happy, we did what was expected." 

Frederick's lips tightened. "I know there's a difference between what Lord Chrom expects and what everyone else expects." He checked their surroundings, seemed satisfied they were alone, and closed the warehouse door. "We set him up with Sumia--and I'm certain that's what your going to propose to the council--but I now realize that might not be what's best for Lord Chrom."

Robin didn't like where their conversation was going. "Are you saying we should approach Sully or Olivia?"

Frederick looked Robin dead in the eyes, unblinking and unrepentant. "No. I'm saying there's another option you haven't properly considered."

Robin saw understanding in Frederick's unmoving gaze, and he recoiled in horror. "You don't know what your saying."

"Is it really so strange? I know how important Lord Chrom is to everyone here, but I now see how that pales in comparison to your feelings Robin. I saw them clearly the day Lord Chrom left with Sumia."

_No no no no no no._

"You love him."

The clipboard in Robin's hands clattered to the floor. "I don't--"

"You do, and do not belittle my intelligence with denial." Frederick was an unrelenting monster right now in Robin's eyes, but he refused to be cowed like frightened prey.

"You say that and yet refuse to see the thousands of wrongs on the other side," Robin sneered, unkind. "Even if I wanted such things I can never ever have them! No one could possibly accept me as Chrom's--” Robin’s eyes widened in fear and he snapped his mouth shut. Anger was making him say more than he intended, but he pressed on and redoubled his efforts to convince Frederick their initial reasons for matching Chrom were valid. “We agreed that Chrom deserved a family.” Robin’s scrutiny grew icy. “And I don’t appreciate you berating me for choosing that.”

Frederick surprisingly matched Robin’s anger, thin wooden walls shuddering against the force of his words. “You aren’t choosing his happiness Robin! I can see that now. I agreed to your plans because I honestly wasn’t certain there was an alternative, but now I see it doesn’t matter. We should let Lord Chrom decide his future, council be damned!”

“Oh really?” Robin injected with more venom than a Plegian viper. “Well that’s too bad because he was born a prince. It’s a sacrifice he knew he would have to make one day and I don’t see how his loyal knight-retainer can so easily forget the tenets of duty.” Robin drew back and let out a shaky breath. “How dare you of all people act as though it’s perfectly acceptable to shirk responsibility in order to explore selfish desires.”

“I wouldn’t call your feelings for Chrom selfish, " Frederick explained quietly, anger evaporating like fire doused with water.

Robin became still, thoughts sputtering like a dying flame. He didn’t know what to say and knew denial offered further condemnation, but Frederick’s words made less sense the longer Robin’s strategic mind digested them. “Surely you have noticed Chrom's current mood,” Robin began, “So I don’t see why any of this is necessary.” He turned away from the knight, shoulders sagging as his anger deflated. “Chrom's happy over Sumia so let us celebrate that fact instead of making things more complicated than they have to be.”

The knight let out a defeated sigh, mirroring Robin's tempo. “It doesn’t have to be complicated Robin." Frederick remained silent after that, either stubbornly awaiting Robin’s counter or accepting his silence as an answer. A pregnant pause stretched into several long minutes before Robin heard Frederick exhale heavily, turn around and leave the warehouse.

“It’s always been complicated,” Robin answered, words fading into quietude. There was a sharp pain swimming into focus and he released the quill from his clenched palm. With eyes closed Robin willed away the frenzy he felt. _Frederick's wrong_ , he silently repeated. Chrom was happy now, anyone could see that. He was courting Sumia and it was the right path for Chrom, Sumia, and all of Ylisse.

* * * * * * * *

The next morning Robin rose early, bathed, and dressed in formal scholarly attire. His meeting with Villus and the council was hours away so he decided to visit the Royal Library. With the contents of his report folded neatly beneath heavy robes he strode through empty halls until reaching a large, masterfully hewn door. Wood squealed against metal fixtures as Robin entered a darkened library filled with towering bookcases and the musty odor of old tomes. He preferred to keep the windows draped and simply lit a few oil lamps beside his favorite chair. A good book--something written by Ogvid, his favorite Ylissean tactician--ought to clear his head in preparation for endorsing Chrom and Sumia’s courtship. _That old codger Villus should be more than pleased_ Robin grumbled to no one, stubbornly morose.

The book proved a blessing and Robin was so engrossed in Ogvid’s account of the Southtown Bridge Battle he didn’t notice the library doors opening and closing. Steps approached then stopped at the clawed feet of his reading chair.

“Robin,” a familiar voice called.

Robin’s narrow shoulders stiffened at the sound and he peered over the top of his ponderous tome both knowing, and dreading, who he would see.

Chrom’s smile was easily visible, lit by the warm cast of the library’s oil lamps. “Good book?” he asked amiably.

Robin felt his entire face flush, embarrassed he was caught by the one person he was actively avoiding. He cleared his throat before replying, “What are you doing in the library so early? It must be…”

Chrom answered without hesitation. “Half an hour before sunrise. Yes, I know the time. And I’m here looking for you.”

Ogvid’s giant tome offered a convenient screen to hide behind, so Robin slumped deeper into the cushion of his chair and cast his eyes back to the page he had already read. “Ah, is that so? How can I help you Chrom?”

Silence answered him, and the longer Robin avoided eye contact with Chrom the more unnerved he was by the the man's uncharacteristic muteness. His fingers tightened against thick binding as his eyes locked onto a single word, though he had no idea what that word was now. His brain only processed “Chrom”.

“Robin,” Chrom whispered softly.

“Yes?” Robin answered, calmly turning a page. The book in his hands became heavier and heavier as fingers hooked over the top, gently tugging downwards until Chrom’s face came into view. Robin couldn’t hide behind paper words anymore.

Chrom, down on one knee, grinned handsomely. Blue bangs caressed his right cheek as he peered into Robin’s lowered eyes. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The way Chrom asked his question suggested Robin’s avoidance was an innocent mistake. The thought of perpetuating that lie filled him with preemptive regret.

Chrom instantly caught Robin’s mood and grew concerned. “What’s wrong? You can tell me you know.”

Robin scrubbed his eyes, the tome abandoned in his lap. “I know...and there’s no cause for concern.” He flashed a reluctant grin. “I’ve been exceptionally busy that’s all.”

Without warning Chrom leaned forward. He smelled like earthy rain and, Naga help him, nostalgia. Something resonated deep within Robin--emerging as a pinprick of light among memories shrouded in darkness. Chrom’s amiable expression turned dubious and he planted hands on either side of Robin, effectively caging him to the chair. “I don’t think that’s it. Why not tell me the real reason you’re avoiding me.”

Robin was suddenly breathless. “You have so many worries right now and I didn’t want to add to--”

Chrom’s face edged closer, fixed by a kind of intense focus only Chrom could muster. “Robin…” he began tenderly, “I know what you’re trying to do.”

“What?” Robin’s mind raced. “No it’s...I only wanted you to be--”

“Happy?" he finished for Robin, eyes dancing with mirth. "I figured as much. You always make me happy Robin.”

Robin swallowed nervously. “I didn’t know that.” He had only to stretch out his fingers and touch Chrom’s arm. Instead he curled those fingers into a fist.

Chrom reeled back and settled at Robin’s feet. “It was Sumia who reminded me. It’s not as if I forgot, just that I needed someone to spell it out for me.” He shook his head, admonishing what he thought was a personal failing. “I never claimed to be as perceptive as you. Given a thousand lifetimes I don’t think I could be.”

For his part, Robin held fast to pragmatism. Chrom’s words were akin to a confession but that was not something he dared hope. “So your time with Sumia was well-spent?”

“Yes, she’s a wonderful person,” Chrom replied dreamily. “I forgot just how amazing she is even though we work together all the time.”

Despite feeling disheartened, Robin managed a smile. “I’m glad things worked out.”

“Well...you planned that didn’t you? My outing with Sumia.” Chrom's sober expression was unreadable.

Chrom wasn't always perceptive, except when he was. “It was a well deserved break I think. The council has tirelessly pushed their expectations as of late and I don't believe you should be forced into an arrangement.”

“The council always pushes me but...what do you mean by “arrangement”?" Chrom legitimately seemed confused by Robin’s words.

The possibility that Chrom was talking about something other than his new romance with Sumia sent cold anxiety through Robin’s chest. He needed to find a way out of their conversation; Chrom made him too vulnerable. “I only meant they want to dictate everything you do and--”

“No. No, don’t do this Robin. Tell me what you meant. The real reason.”

How Chrom learned to read Robin like a book was something he really needed to know. He sighed. “They want you to marry.”

Chrom hung his head and mourned, “Oh don’t remind me! Though they have backed off as of late. I take it you had something to do with that?”

Robin's thoughts briefly moved to the report hidden in his robes. “They approached me about convincing you to choose someone.”

“Unsurprising,” Chrom huffed.

“I thought it best for you to get away from the castle for a bit, out of their reach.” Though more lie than truth, Robin now operated under the assumption that Chrom didn't know the whole story.

Suddenly Robin's thoughts careened off track, captivated by a sensation against his leg. He looked down, shocked to see Chrom’s index finger turning lazy circles over his trousers. “What are you doing?” Robin asked, throat dry.

“What? Oh,” Chrom reddened, pulling his hand back lightening quick. “S--sorry I didn’t notice.”

Robin gathered his wits, hands moving to the arms of the chair. “So...did I answer your question?”

Chrom nodded, backing away so Robin could stand and shake the wrinkles from his robes. Truthfully Robin was more focused on the colorful shade of Chrom’s cheeks over what his own hands were doing. “I have a morning meeting to prepare for...so I should probably go.”

“Of course! Yes, sorry to keep you. I’m glad you told me what’s going on though. You can always tell me, I want you to believe that.” Chrom stood with hands clasped behind his back. “I will always be here when you need me.”

You will forget me when you hold your first child in your arms, Robin thought to himself. “I know,” he said instead, “And I appreciate that. Really, I do.” He turned away from Chrom, away from the easy smile on the other man’s face, and left the library. The council meeting was hours away--Chrom probably knew that, given the hour of morning--but Robin needed time alone. He needed time away from Chrom so he could do what Villus and the other council member expected. He needed…

Slowly Robin reached for the report hidden in his clothes, intent on recounting the fruits of his emotional labor and forgetting Chrom’s finger drawing circles on his thigh. His hands came back empty. Robin shoved open the folds of his robes and searched for the file he knew was there. It had to be there. If it wasn’t there then…

Chrom. Chrom!

Fear, embarrassment, anger...everything crashed into his body, propelling a frantic run back to the library. He threw open the doors and found Chrom sitting motionless, hands white-knuckled against his missing report. Robin stood in the doorway breathing heavily, unsure what sort of expression he wore. Afraid he was revealing everything at once on the shadowed planes of his face.

“Robin…” Chrom said without raising his head. “What have you done?”

Every strategy, every plausible explanation, every calculated move evaporated from Robin’s head leaving him empty and cold. He had no idea what to say.


	6. Sixth Turn: Check

Chrom wore a pained expression, but his words were angry. Rightfully so, Robin thought. He never meant for Chrom to read that report. 

"Answer me Robin. What have you done?"

Robin's feet refused to move beyond the threshold, hand glued to the door handle like a lifeline. It was too late to soften his position, Chrom had read what was meant to appease a surly, hard-nosed Senior Advisor. Unemotional and cuttingly irreverent words, nothing Robin would have written for someone he loved. Someone like Chrom. 

_I did what I had to do. The desperate play of a man waiting for the person he loves to move on without him._

Finally, after agonizing over words he couldn't speak, Robin moved towards Chrom. He stopped when his shadow fell over the paper pulled taut between Chrom's fingers. "Do you remember when I was having those nightmares?"

Chrom's anger hesitantly morphed into confusion. "I...yes I remember."

Robin swallowed. The mere memory of that repeating dream stung on a level Robin didn't think any situation could match. He breathed, and words emerged. "I will never forget what I saw in your eyes. I had betrayed you and yet you cared more for my well being than your own."

For a moment Chrom was mollified, though his hands were pale and tight meaning his anger was not forgotten. "I don't believe you would ever betray me Robin, but even then I will still care about you. That doesn't mean I'm okay with this."

Robin pressed on. "It felt like more than a dream--and it was because of me that you didn't have a future. I would rather risk your ire than ever risk your future."

Chrom pressed his back into the chair. "I see. This is another best intention gone awry is it? You're as bad as Frederick sometimes."

Robin could have left it there, apologized and sought forgiveness. Instead he whispered, "You need to consider your position."

Chrom frowned. "Meaning...?"

"Some things need to be let go in order to be saved."

Robin hadn't meant to be so vague but he couldn't bring himself to tell Chrom to step into his deceased sister's shoes and formally claim the throne. Chrom hadn't so much as looked at Emmeryn's crown since they recovered her body over a year ago.

A frustrated cry preceded Chrom's reply. "Robin you aren't making sense! Now I asked you a direct question and I intend to hear your answer! Were you going to enforce the council's will against my wishes? Was all of your strange behavior as of late part of this deception?"

Robin's feelings were complex, but his answer was simple. "Yes."

It seemed Chrom hadn't expected Robin's clipped reply. "I...then I guess I know what I needed to know."

"I guess you do." Robin leveled his gaze.

"I can't believe you didn't even talk to me first. I can't---" Chrom shook his head. "I thought we could tell each other anything."

"You wanted a topnotch tactician to help govern Ylisse's future, and you got it. This is what's best for the Halidom Chrom. I didn't need to ask you when I already knew that. No matter the scenario I'm always ten steps ahead."

Chrom's expression darkened. "That will be useful when I ask you to leave me alone then."

Robin said nothing as he held out his hand. A beat passed before Chrom decided to return Robin's report. He did so with a verbal addendum. "I can refuse everything you have in there."

"A crowned Exalt can, yes. Prince Chrom can't. And he shouldn't if he cares for Ylisse." Ten steps was all it took to leave the library.

* * * * * * *

Things were tense after Robin's confrontation with Chrom. Even Sully acknowledged the rift. "Okay, what did that damn, smart-ass mouth do this time?"

"Huh?" Robin eloquently responded. He was in the stables taking note on the conditions of their war horses when Sully's heavy hand slapped the side of a support beam.

"Chrom. What did you do? He's acting like someone just pissed in his morning tea."

"How do you know I had something to do with it?"

"Cause you have that effect on him. Now spill."

"I did what I had to do is all," Robin quipped.

"Y'mean about finding him a little wife?" she asked, eyebrow impossibly high.

"How do you--"

"Frederick told me. Everything. He needed to get the guilt off his chest or somethin'. Said you guys were sizing each of us up to be Chrom's blushin' bride?" Sully guffawed, which surprised Robin. He expected a fist in his face. "Chrom woulda never married me! Hell he can't even beat me during a mounted fight. You think I would marry a man who can't win ONE match with me? Hell no!"

So, Frederick had soothed his guilty conscience with the truth. That was something Robin hadn't considered. Every good strategist knew not to reveal their hand, win or lose."I suppose it was a stretch. You're probably beating away suitors right and left."

"Hah, was that sarcasm? You lost some of your bite Robin."

Robin shook his head. "You're right. I'm sorry...we just wanted--"

"What's best for you ain't best for Chrom. You know?"

It wasn't what was best for me, Robin thought. Setting up the person he loved with someone else was a nightmare scenario he had tried to accept. "I'm really not arguing with you."

"Yeah, but that don't mean you think you were wrong. I know you Robin. You're smart as shit which makes you just the right side of cocky. But you can easily cross that line."

"And I crossed it," Robin admitted. It was almost the apology she was looking for.

"You got it. So just to make us square and all that...you gotta spar me."

Heaven help him, he knew it too.

That week Robin made reparations with Maribelle and Olivia as well. Even though the latter didn't suffer through Robin's plan, she was embarrassed by the news she had been a prospective bride. He soothed Olivia by unveiling a humiliating dance during her Friday night show at the Ebb and Flow. Robin was never meant to wear tights, despite his name.

The last woman, and possibly the most deserving of Robin's apology, was Sumia. On Saturday mornings she was always in the same place. She sat beside her pegasus in the paddock humming sweetly as it munched an apple. When Robin approached she looked nervous.

"Sumia..."

Her eyes darted to her steed until she decided enough time had passed to properly address Robin. "Robin, hello. Did you need something?"

He folded his legs beside her and gently reached for Iris' muzzle. The pegasus didn't know what he had done, so there was no unease in its whinnying greeting. "I'm sorry I involved you...the way I did. I should have told you what I intended from the beginning." He looked at her, and she patiently returned his gaze.

"Robin," Sumia started, "You don't owe me anything. I'm always happy to help Chrom, whether I know the reason or not."

Of course she was gracious and understanding. Sumia constantly reinforced values which Robin lacked. "Well you have it anyway, my heartfelt apology. I'm deeply sorry."

She squeezed her fingers together, pinching blades of grass. "I'm...probably not the person who needs to hear it most. Have you spoken to Chrom?"

He looked away. "No. I'm not sure he wants to see me anyway."

"Oh, I know he doesn't."

The truth stung. Sumia continued. "Chrom and I see each other everyday now, and I suppose I have you to thank for that. I never dreamed of being so close to him." Her eyes sparkled with unbridled adoration. "But the cost was too great. I'm a poor replacement for you."

"You're with Chrom now, you should enjoy it. Don't worry about me," Robin insisted, voice a little fragile.

Sumia looked towards the sky. He followed her gaze into cloudless blue. Iris meandered away after finishing her meal and Sumia leaned back on her hands. "Can I tell a secret?"

He didn't answer. She probably didn't need one.

"I love him. I always have."

That wasn't a secret, but her forwardness surprised him. Sumia's characteristic shyness seemed as far away as the sky.

"Then you must be happy now."

"What do you think?" she giggled. 

Robin thought her secret wasn't like most--hidden away because it revealed something vile. He glanced at his right hand, flesh twisted by the ugly scrawl of a tattoo he couldn't remember getting. The sign of the fell dragon Grima. It was his most closely guarded secret, and a truth so dark he couldn't bring himself to share it. His second most closely held secret was that he was in love with a man. A prince of Ylisse. A descendant of heroes. He could never be as open about those feelings as Sumia was now. "I hope you make each other happy," Robin replied, eyes prickled by the threat of tears.

"We will. We do."

After that they stopped talking and simply listened. Birds chirped as they flitted between elm branches and thornberry bushes. The rush of a stream gurgled beside the whinny of a horse and the distant crow of a time-challenged rooster. The day was warm. Too warm for Robin's heavy cloak. "Spending time with Chrom is a dream come true," Sumia said suddenly. "But you need to talk to him. He's not himself without you."

Robin would talk to Chrom. He had no idea when though. Maybe after the royal wedding? The birth of Chrom's heir? Time was merely an amenable distance into the future he had created. "I will."

Sumia nodded, satisfied with his response. Iris returned shortly after that and Sumia excused herself. Robin watched her effortlessly mount the pegasus and fly upwards, feathered wings curled against a bright sky, riding gear glinting like a ray of light.

A shadow fell across Robin's face.

Frederick cleared his throat. "Robin..."

"Your good nature is contagious friend," Robin faced the knight after wiping away what he hoped wasn't a tear. Damn the man for his ability to sneak up at every turn. In a full suit of armor no less. "I decided to follow your example." Robin felt relieved to see Frederick's customary stoicism.

"I never meant to chastise you. Your plan was well-intended."

He laughed. "Well you know what they say."

The knight's brows furrowed. "I don't actually know what they say. However, you need to speak with Chrom."

Robin snorted. "And tell him what? It all worked out. Chrom doesn't want to see me, and Sumia's happy. I'm chalking this one as a tentative success despite its humiliating conclusion."

"You're hurting," Frederick bluntly countered.

"It's called life Freddy. I deal."

Frederick's mouth opened, then snapped shut. Robin shook his head. "Just get it over with. I know what you're going to say."

A frown. "I didn't tell our female companions they were Chrom's marriage candidates to humiliate you. I did it because our plan lacked one crucial element."

"The truth," Robin supplied wearily. "And that's why none of you are tacticians. The truth is something we hide behind guile and tact. Truth is most often the very thing I spend untold hours disguising. It's my job. And I'm damn good at it."

"You act as though you're still at war. That's the problem. Do you need to bury the truth when our country is at peace?"

"No country is ever at peace. And anyone who says so is a fool," Robin peered up at Frederick. "You're no fool Frederick and I don't think you believe we are at peace." He sat back. "This is an interim."

Frederick visibly bristled. "I find your methods counter-intuitive. You want friends yet you push them away. You want Chrom yet you set him up with someone else. You want peace yet you claim there is no such thing." He eyed Robin imperiously. "So tell me tactician, what do you do when you have all three?"

Robin heaved a great sigh. When he looked past Frederick's expectant face he saw a tiny winged steed reaching for the sun. He was tired of it all. Tired of making enemies out of friends; tired of hiding feelings and keeping secrets; tired of being every inch the tactician he was expected to be. Normally Robin would respond to Frederick's query with something succinct and defensive. Now he was weary, and willing to accept an olive branch when he saw one. "When that happens I can guarantee another rousing exhibition at the Ebb and Flow. Tights and all."

For his part, Frederick recognized Robin's levity for what it was: an attempt at atonement. A plea to smooth their friendship, because people weren't perfect and Frederick had the patience of a Ylissean saint.

"Not quite what I had in mind. I can answer the question to your satisfaction, if you're willing." Frederick's armor clamored as he moved closer to Robin, appearing every inch a shining knight. "Meet with me tonight."

Robin raised an eyebrow, playfully suspicious. "--are you trying to seduce me? Because I'm taken you know. I have a very jealous imagination."

Frederick's eye twitched but he weathered Robin's teasing snipe. He always seemed to be thinking 'you're an idiot but luckily for you I'm loyal to the end'. "I'm afraid I'm not offering courtship. This is simply a chance to learn something new. I'm very much aware that gaining knowledge is your weakness."

"Too right. So where do I get to hear this all-knowing wisdom?

"The western courtyard at moonrise. You shall have your answer then."

Robin didn't know what Frederick hedged, but he trusted the knight's heart more than he trusted--and believed--in the goodness of his own. "And I shall be there. Sleepy-eyed and dragging tail. That's way past your bedtime old man."

A cunning smirk appeared on Frederick's lips, undeniable proof of Robin's influence, and he glowed like a mother bird watching her chicks take flight. Robin felt better than he had in a long time.


	7. Seventh Turn: Checkmate

Moonrise was a cool alternative to the previous heat of the day, and Robin took in the crisp air like a man in need of a moment's respite. He took note of the empty courtyard and waited for Frederick among climbing roses and cowering poppies. On the other side of a finely trimmed hedge he spotted a white picnic blanket. He briefly wondered if Frederick _was_ actually trying to woo him. 

On display was his favorite meal: blue egg pie ringed with medallions of wild boar sausage and apple custard. He sat down to see what steamed in a silver teapot and spotted wild berry muffins with goat cheese. He hated goat cheese and knew Frederick would rather eat bear than anything from a goat. In fact, the more he investigated the suspiciously laden feast the more he questioned the innocence of Frederick's offer. The knight was a poster boy of fidelity, so Robin never dreamed of falling for something like this.

Chrom loved goat cheese on his muffins. And sweet potato tarts. Steamed buns with pork belly. This was a trap. A delicious trap of savory lies.

"Robin?"

_Damn you Frederick. You're pure evil. Grima has nothing on you._

"This isn't what it looks like!" Robin shrieked.

Chrom's lips twitched. "It looks like you're trying to woo me."

"I was framed, I mean set up. I mean--why are you in your nightclothes?" Sure enough Chrom stood under the moonlight in a linen long shirt and fur-lined slippers.

He squirmed under Robin's stare. "Because sisters are evil. She said--" he sighed, "--never mind what she said. I'm here, and I have no idea why."

Robin shook his head. "Well I trusted your faithful retainer and look where it got me."

"I take it we were set up?"

"Like pawns."

"Ah..."

Robin wanted to fill the space between them. Chrom was here, and Robin didn't want to talk about their problems because he was here and blushing in his slippers. "So...I'm eating. You can have your nasty goat cheese things."

Chrom was momentarily delighted. "Really? What else is there?"

"Everything we love," Robin choked on the words, but evidently not enough for Chrom to notice.

For a while they amused themselves with food and aloof commentary on the deliciousness of Frederick the Devious' cooking skills. Then it occurred to Robin they had no real reason to stay. Frederick and Lissa weren't coming, and to his knowledge Chrom didn't want to see him.

When they were too full for another bite, an awkward silence settled between abandoned dishes. At least Robin found comfort behind his tea cup until that too ran dry.

"I'm not sure what to say," Chrom admitted, attempting to smooth the palpable tension.

Robin's gaze landed on where Chrom's fingers twisted the hem of his nightshirt. "I think--I mean I know I owe you an apology. So there's that. From me." He was rarely unintelligible, but Chrom's presence after a week apart did things to his brain. 

Chrom snorted. "You're terrible at humility."

"Humility is an art I haven't mastered yet." Robin smirked, before soberly adding, "But I need to work on that." 

"You do," Chrom affirmed. 

"I was a jerk."

"You were."

"And you deserved to know."

The prince nodded sagely. "I did."

"And I'm not proud of anything."

"No pride there."

"Except maybe the fact you and Sumia are together now," Robin added. "I'm proud of that." And he was. That pride just happened to mix well with heartache.

"Well you shouldn't--" Blue eyes widened considerably. "Wait, what do you mean?"

Robin brought his hands together. "You and Sumia? You know...together now?"

"I don't follow," Chrom deadpanned. "We hang out a lot now yeah. More so after losing my best friend."

"You didn't lose him," Robin breathed, for once completely uncertain how Chrom might respond.

Chrom's defensive posture crumbled and Robin felt a week's worth of tension float away. "That's good. I'm...I kind of missed you. A lot." Chrom rubbed the back of his neck. "And I want to move on from all of this."

Robin swallowed. "Me too."

Then it was quiet. Too quiet really. Robin itched under his collar, and his fingers tapped odes against his knees. Chrom let out an exasperated sigh

"Then that's it." The prince slapped a hand against his thigh. "We're good. I forgive you, and let's finally talk about something else. Just as long as you never go behind my back to marry me off again."

Robin laughed, and it felt good. "I promise. Though I'm pretty sure Sumia would find that entirely unnecessary."

"What's with you and Sumia?" Chrom elicited a fake, scandalized gasp. "Is there something I don't know?"

Robin waved a hand. "Your acting is on par with my dancing Chrom."

"Okay okay. I'm actually serious now. You're talking about Sumia an awful lot. She's a great friend, but I never saw her as your type? I kind of always pictured her with Gaius for some reason."

Slowly, oh so slowly a wheel in Robin's head lurched forward. In depressing clarity he saw where all of his moves had taken him, and with an air of crazed relief Robin began to laugh.

Chrom grew concerned. "Uh Robin...?"

But he couldn't stop. The dramatic irony! The cliched plot line! It was straight from the pages of 'A Heroine's Virtue.' Which made Robin the unwitting heroine and he only laughed harder.

What finally stopped Robin's uproarious mirth was Chrom's hand wrapped around his arm. "Have you cracked or something?"

Robin wiped his face. "It's just...I can't believe it! You and me..okay really just me. I'm a fool! A court jester, a buffoon's errand boy. Pitied by common sense and ostracized by intellect!"

"Robin! You aren't any of those things."

"But I am!" Robin was still laughing through his tears. "I really really--"

Then he stopped, seized to silence by blood rushing in his ears. 

And the clipped smack of an uncertain kiss.

Chrom moved away from Robin like a thief caught in the act. "Oh gods, I'm so--Robin I didn't mean for that--well I did but--oh gods!"

Robin wasn't laughing anymore. "Chrom."

Chrom winced. "Yes?"

After two years of pining, ogling and unspoken desires, Robin could only think of one thing to say to Chrom. "Shut up and kiss me."

They weren't talking anymore. And it was good. Really, really good.

* * * * * *

"Did you really think that? Me and Sumia?" Chrom smiled through another kiss placed against Robin's temple. They were lying side-by-side on the picnic blanket, fingers laced and heads intimately close.

"I did!" Robin chuckled. He squeezed Chrom's hand. "I had convinced myself you were in love and going to get married."

"After one date? Which wasn't even a date really since you set us up? Okay, I'm rescinding your genius status. You are now only slightly more intelligent than me." Chrom kissed Robin's fingers. "No hard feelings."

"None taken. I really was obtuse wasn't I? The two of you have been friend's for so long, surely you understand my confusion."

"You know, I'm really glad you made me go with her that day. She's a great friend and I'm ashamed I haven't spent much time with her the last few years. Though I feel bad now...all we did was talk about you."

Robin felt sorry for Sumia, who certainly wanted more than Chrom's friendship. His happiness was not to be thwarted though, not with Chrom's smiling face so close.

"At least something good came out of all of this," Robin breathed.

"More than good I think," said Chrom.

"What do I tell Villus now? This isn't going to fly with the council you know," Robin was serious, despite being showered with impromptu kisses. "Gods we need a plan."

"Shh...not now. Let's enjoy this." Chrom sat up. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"A walk? At this time of night?" It must have been past midnight, but Chrom's enthusiasm was adorable.

"Yeah you know...under the stars, in the moonlight and all. It's kind of romantic I think."

"You're making me swoon my lord. Especially with the prospect of watching you stroll down Capital Road in your furry booties," the tactician snickered.

Chrom deflated. "Oh damn...I forgot. Okay, I can fix this." He pressed a hasty kiss against Robin's mouth. "Don't go anywhere."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Robin hummed.

Even beneath a luminous moon and glittering stars Chrom's elation was more dazzling than any celestial object in the sky. With an adoring gaze--which looked and felt like a promise--Chrom dashed back to the castle.

Robin released an enormously contented sigh and lay back down, counting the moments until he saw Chrom's smiling face again. What happened felt like a dream, and yet a giddiness inside told him it was all real. Creeping doubt was surely on its way--and pragmatism not far behind it--but for now, under the moon and stars and ensconced in the fragrance of Ylissean flowers, Robin basked in the warmth of unhindered content. 

It was because of his dreamy state that he failed to notice a shadow entering the courtyard. As well as the whisper of boots on trimmed grass. Only years of experience on the battlefield prompted Robin to catch a glint of steel in his periphery. He startled upright before the blade pricked his chest, coming face to face with a woman he didn't know.

Robin's Arcthunder tome wasn't there when his fingers instinctively reached for it. The woman's face was carefully withdrawn, but her sword arm implied an expertise Robin couldn't match without a weapon.

"Okay..." Robin started coolly, "You clearly have the upper hand here. So what do you want?" He was hoping to stall long enough for Chrom's return. Before the woman spoke he dissected her appearance for a clue to her identity. She had long blue hair, a cape and Akaneian-esq clothing. In the span of a breath he knew who she was.

"Marth...?"

The point of her sword quivered once. "My real name is Lucina," she rasped.

The name meant nothing to him. "Lucina...might I ask why you're threatening me right now?"

"You told me you wanted what was best for him. You said he should have a family." There were angry tears clouding her eyes.

Robin instantly recalled their conversation the night he waited for Chrom to return on Sumia's pegasus. "Yes...I remember."

"Then what do you call this!? Stealing his heart before he even has a chance at happiness? A chance to have children? It can't be this way. This isn't the right future." Lucina grit her teeth. "I have to fix this."

Robin felt her sword arm shift and the hairs on his neck prickled in a way that filled him with dread. "I can help you Lucina. The Shepherds can help you. Just...put down the sword."

She twisted the point and gave no indication she heard Robin at all. "I trusted you because Chrom trusted you. They all did. But I was a fool." Lucina shook her head, eyes glued to Robin's mounting fear. "For his future..." she almost sobbed, "for my future, for the sake of the world--you must die."

"Wait--!" 

A pained grimace on the face of a woman he hardly knew was the last thing Robin saw before he felt raw steel rip through flesh. He choked on a ragged breath, bile in his throat. Lucina withdrew her blade, striking a fencer's lunging position before uttering the last words Robin was about to hear.

"You were never supposed to have his heart." And with that she punched her sword through Robin's chest.


	8. Eighth Turn: Revival Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter was getting too long so I broke it into a part 1 and 2. Here's the first installment!

In the darkness there was a voice as familiar and comforting as it was terrifyingly unknowable. It was a part of himself Robin didn't understand, and couldn't analyze except that sometimes when he was hurt...it was right there. Almost tangible before fading back into an unreachable corner, a phantom presence once more.

Robin's heart thundered erratically until he realized the unmistakable scent of Chrom's room. _Linseed and burnt wood._ That fact alone calmed him in a way nothing else could. He cracked open an eye and the world swam into focus.

"--ould be dead," a girl's voice said.

"Lissa! Don't say that!" Robin recognized Chrom's panicked voice.

Lissa whispered harshly, "Well I don't like saying it anymore than you like hearing it but I'm telling you--"

"He's awake!" Frederick rushed into view, quickly followed by a disheveled Chrom.

"Robin! Oh gods Robin can you hear me? Are you in pain? Please say something!" Chrom gripped the sheets around Robin, bloodless knuckles shaking.

Normally Robin responded to Chrom's verbal onslaughts with incorrigible sass, but at the moment he was too drained. He smoothed a hand over his bare chest. "I'm okay?" The words were like sand on his desert-parched lips. Frederick offered some water which he readily accepted. Robin's eyes sought Lissa and he gratefully uttered, "You saved my life." Lissa's skills as a healer were better than ever.

Apprehensive, she looked to Chrom and Frederick. "Should I tell him?"

Chrom bit his lip and said nothing. Frederick responded with a grave nod. Robin swallowed thick dread. It was never good when Lissa wasn't vomiting cheer.

Lissa continued. "I didn't save you Robin. YOU saved you."

"What...?" Robin's eyes wandered to his chest. There should be a wound, or something other than pale unmarked skin. His fingers grazed where Lucina's sword had gutted. No bandages, no stitches--not even a bruise. Robin had studied sorcery so he was aware of the limitations of magic. At least, magic wielded by mortals beings.

 _I was dead._ Somehow he knew Lucina's blow had been fatal, and the patron goddess of Ylisse probably wasn't responsible for his miraculous revival. Robin was suddenly afraid.

"Robin..." Chrom whispered as he noted what must have been terror seeping into Robin's eyes. He sat beside Robin on the edge of his bed.

 _Grima. Fell blood._ Robin glanced at the tattoo on his right hand. Chrom noticed.

"Hey...could you give us a minute?" Chrom asked quietly. Frederick and Lissa side-eyed each other but didn't argue. The room was quiet after they left, save for a shuddering breath from Chrom. 

Robin was instantly swept into the prince's arms. "Oh gods Robin...I thought I lost you. I came back and--so much blood! There was--I was--" Tears slid down Robin's shoulder. "I didn't even get to--" Chrom squeezed harder, as if Robin could float away any moment. 

Robin returned the embrace, inexplicably concerned something was about to pluck them apart. Moments passed and gentle kisses exchanged before both were calm enough to speak again.

"I was really dead wasn't I?"

"...yes," Chrom croaked.

"Then how am I alive?" Robin left Chrom's arms. "What did you see?"

The prince reached for Robin's right hand. "I saw what this is." He held on tight, too tight for Robin to snatch it back. "I'm not afraid Robin."

So Robin's most closely held secret was out. Everything he knew about the tattoo on his hand barely filled a single page in his notebook. Robin feared his own ignorance as much as Grima and the fell god's zealous worshipers. "You should be afraid Chrom. Nothing good comes from Grimleal tattoos." From what Robin knew his markings were bestowed on Grimleal hierophants, the upper echelon of their religious hierarchy. Robin wasn't a follower of Grima, but whoever had painstakingly worked the ritual tattoo into his hand definitely thought so.

Chrom's gaze softened. "It's not a tattoo, it's a brand. A mark of divinity. Like mine."

Robin opened and closed his mouth, tasting his surprise before he said, "There's a big difference between the divine dragon Naga and the fell dragon Grima." Then he wondered if Chrom had even considered Grima's role in Robin's mysterious mark. If so, the prince didn't appear as concerned as he should.

Chrom stroked Robin's hand. "I think Naga herself might say she and Grima are simply two sides of the same coin."

Robin swallowed, cheeks hot from the Chrom's blind adoration. "Great," he mourned theatrically. "I'm the evil twin."

"I admit you're on the more malevolent side yes," Chrom teased. "But your brand no more controls you than mine controls me. My father bore the Mark of the Exalt and he committed genocide."

Robin conceded Chrom's point. "Okay. Let's just say it isn't inherently evil. So how do you know it's a brand?"

"According to Lissa it was glowing all night until your wound closed and breath rushed back into your lungs. Before that you were..."

Robin touched the purple scrawl; it looked as unremarkable as before. "I was unquestionably dead. So Grima's brand revived me? Why?" He lowered his gaze. "No good can come of this Chrom. Gods don't bring someone back to life and let them go on their merry way. They USE them." Robin hated the thought, but it was a natural conclusion.

Chrom gently shushed Robin's pessimism. "Right now I'm glad you're alive. I don't care why."

Robin still felt incredibly weak so he didn't push his point. There would be time to enlighten Chrom. Until then Robin might close his eyes for a bit. He was so very tired...

"Who did this Robin?" Chrom asked with no small amount of anger simmering below his words. He wanted vengeance.

Despite a July heat outside, there was a small fire crackling in Chrom's hearth. Robin knew Chrom liked the ambiance and Frederick was all too eager to prepare fires for his lord regardless of the season. It was a good distraction while he composed his thoughts.

Robin remembered Lucina's face moments before she fatally struck. He had seen a lifetime's worth of tears in her eyes. _You were never supposed to have his heart._ He knew she was right; a Plegian-born son of Grima was not supposed to win the heart of Naga's chosen. That was the way the world worked, and bad things happened when one warred against destiny. But Chrom looked wrecked and Robin knew if their situations were reversed he would need an answer to the same question.

"Marth, or rather the woman impersonating him. Her name is Lucina."

Chrom's eyes went wide. "The one who saved my life? And warned us of that plot to assassinate Emmeryn? Why did she want to kill you?"

Robin shrugged, still reaching for his own answers. "She said something about saving the future."

Chrom brought both hands to Robin's shoulders. "Robin, without you none of us would have a future. Ylisse would have been a war-torn playground; our people conquered and my line destroyed. Don't believe her for a second. You saved all of us."

Robin pressed a hand to the place Lucina had skewered only hours ago. "She seemed very adamant."

Chrom moved closer, palms sliding to rest behind Robin's neck. "We'll get to the bottom of this. I will have Frederick and the guards search Ylisstol. I promise to keep you safe." A thumb gently brushed Robin's cheek. "I'm never letting you out of my sight you know. You're stuck with me now."

"I was sort of hoping you would say that." Robin sank into the comfort of Chrom's hands. "But I draw the line at holding my hand in the bathroom. A man needs to keep some dignity."

"Quiet you."

* * * * * * * *

Knowledge of Robin's death and subsequent resurrection, as well as the Mark of Grima, remained a secret between the four of them. Lissa's typical nonchalance was abandoned when Chrom asked her to keep silent, to which she solemnly agreed. Frederick spent his days looking for Lucina, and Chrom--true to his word--glued himself to Robin's side.

Robin spent most of his time cloistered in the Royal Library scouring tomes on the Grimleal. What little information he gleaned seemed unimportant. They operated on secrecy, like most cults, and not even history regarding the Ylissean occupation of Plegia proved useful.

Surprisingly Robin didn't feel any different. Having died once he expected residual effects: waking dreams, depression, headaches. He was perfectly normal; almost too normal.

"I think that's it," Chrom announced as he unloaded the last stack of books. "If it's not here then it doesn't exist in Ylisse."

Robin sighed against a propped hand. "How can knowledge of a very active cult be so hard to find? The Grimleal are all over Plegia. Surely someone knows something."

"You have to ask someone from Plegia I guess."

"Maybe I should ask Tharja..."

Chrom's expression darkened. "She left remember? After news that Gangrel's replacement was crowned."

Robin found Chrom's jealousy cute but unnecessary. "I guess I can wait for her return. I still don't think she knows much, she wasn't part of their inner-circle." Robin frowned at his brand for the thousandth time. He hated unsolvable puzzles.

Chrom reached for Robin's hand. "I think we need a break. Come on, I'm starving." Robin allowed himself to be gently pulled from book stacks and out of the library, giddy from the feeling of Chrom's warm palm firmly squeezing his own. A large part of him knew their relationship--at least the tentative stirring of one--couldn't last. It wouldn't last in the face of duty to the Halidom and the council's demands, but right now he reveled in these tactile moments instead of debating them. Perhaps his temporary death had been a reminder to savor every moment no matter how fleeting.

The pair darted into the kitchens where lunch was being prepared. A few servants bowed to Chrom but he waved them off. "I don't have time for a formal lunch, just here to grab something quick."

Something quick turned out to be a heaping plate of savory bread, fruit tarts and steamed dumplings. "You're really going to eat all of that," Robin stated in disbelief.

Chrom led Robin down the hall, gave the area a once over, then pecked his cheek. "No, we're going to eat all of this."

"You know how I feel about picnics Chrom." No one ever claimed Robin's sense of humor was healthy.

"Robin--" Chrom warned. "Don't even joke about that." He continued, more light-hearted, "We're going to my quarters where I'm going to feed you like the romantic fool I am. And you're going to love every bite."

That was a very sound plan, high approval from the resident tactician. Their lunch plans were thwarted when they reached Chrom's room and Frederick rounded on them huffing like he just climbed every stairway in Ylisstol. Robin wondered if he had done precisely that.

"Milord--" Frederick breathed heavily. "The woman you seek...she's here."

Robin was the first to respond, feeling equal parts anxious and shaken. "Where is she?"

Frederick caught his breath and straightened. "The royal dungeons."

Chrom looked ten-ways relieved. "Good work Frederick," he said, clapping the knight's shoulder. 

Frederick hesitated. "I wish I could accept credit Milord but--I'm not responsible for her capture."

"Who is?" Chrom wanted to know.

"She gave herself up willingly."

Chrom blinked, clearly uncertain what to make of Lucina's actions. Then he shoved the plate of food into Robin's hands. "Let me handle this Robin."

Robin sputtered. "Are you kidding? If anyone deserves answers it's the one who died." He shoved the plate at Frederick. "Hold this, I'm going down there."

Chrom looked sick to his stomach and Frederick waited for his lord's grudging nod before taking the plate. "I can't stop you can I?" Chrom lamented, visibly torn. 

"Nope," Robin affirmed. "Let's go. I have a very literal itch to scratch with this Lucina."

There were hard feelings of course--Lucina wanted him dead. Yet in spite of that Robin didn't hate her. Perhaps it was because he still remembered the look on her face; death had not eased that stark clarity. She looked like a tactician on the eve of battle; like Robin when he knew some of the troops he positioned were going to lose. _Resigned._

Robin had visited Ylisse's dungeon only a handful of times during his advisement to the Shepherds. It wasn't a place he liked to see, particularly when he needed information from tight-lipped captives. Robin was a manipulator, not an interrogator. Now those cells were empty--save one.

Lucina stood in the center of her cell, head bowed and chains buckled around clenched hands. Her effects were organized on a table along the wall behind Robin. Chrom remained quiet as he studied her at a distance, but Robin strode to the table and examined everything. He felt a perverse sense of control when he lifted the sword that killed him. Almost killed him. Okay, his previous status was complicated at the moment. 

Up close Lucina's sword uncannily resembled Chrom's--the legendary Falchion. There was more wear and tear though--gouges on the hilt and gold-work missing from the crossbar. Robin called to Chrom. "Take a look at her sword. This has to be a replica, right?" Chrom was the expert when it came to Falchion.

It seemed Chrom didn't know where to begin with their laconic prisoner so he turned to Robin. "Robin you shouldn't be touching that. I swear--" Chrom grew quiet mid sentence. He remained silent as he approached the sword, trepidation in his steps. Robin chalked up Chrom's behavior to the strangeness of seeing the instrument of Robin's mortality up close, but there was no anger or fear in Chrom's face. He looked like a man whose faith was shaken.

"Can I hold that?" Chrom asked, pale and uncertain. When Robin extended the sword handle Chrom let his fingers brush the grip the way he always did before unsheathing Falchion. He blinked, stunned. 

"Should I ask, or just assume the impossible?" Robin folded his arms, a maneuver that looked more casual than he felt.

"Assume the impossible," Chrom breathed, swiping Lucina's sword through the air. "Naga's breath...this is Falchion. And the hilt has seen better days."

Robin massaged his temple, feeling the ghost touch of a headache from the only explanation that made sense. _I really hate magic sometimes._ "So alternate universe? Parallel existence? Some kind of weird Outlands hoodoo?"

Chrom's gaze darted towards Lucina's cell. "Only one person knows for sure." He gave the sword one practiced flourish before replacing it. "There is only one blade forged from Naga's fang. And I thought I had it." He patted the Ylissean treasure strapped to his side. "So how did that woman, who incidentally wants you dead, get her hands on another?"

"You won't like the answer," Robin speculated. "And I don't think I will either."

With two cursory nods, the pair approached Lucina, who made no attempt to acknowledge them. Chrom gripped the handle of his sword the same way Lucina had done the night she spoke of Chrom's future: as an act of comfort rather than aggression.

Chrom cleared his throat. "We want answers from you," he began sternly, "So I hope you're in a chatty mood."

Lucina finally raised her head and strangely replied, "April twentieth."

The men shared nonplussed glances until Chrom impatiently retorted, "It's July. Or are you pleading insanity now?"

The woman huffed. "It's the day I was born."

Before Chrom's simmering anger erupted, Robin stepped in. "Why is it important you tell us that?"

She shrugged. "Why not?" A long, withered sigh. "I miss my father."

A bad feeling sat in Robin's stomach like a cold stone. "Where did you get that sword?"

She stared at him, neither angry nor intrigued. Just defeated. "How are you still alive?"

Chrom became incensed. "You're not asking the questions here. Tell us where you got that sword."

Lucina bit her lip, uncomfortable with revealing her long-kept secrets. Robin understood, but she had nothing to lose now and her expression made that all the more evident. "I suppose it does no harm to divulge the truth. Things are already changed. Our fates are sealed."

Despite Chrom's disbelieving scoff, Robin was certain his worldview was about to expand exponentially.

Lucina continued. "Falchion is my inheritance, my birthright. Just as it was yours Chrom."

Chrom's hands were shaking, but the explosive anger Robin sensed remained in check. "Do you expect me to believe that? There is only one true Falchion--the sword at my side."

"You're correct. Mine is the same sword, just twenty years older. It has served me through a lifetime of troubles, killed innumerable Risen. Even deflected the fangs of Grima." She slowly released a burdened breath. "But I couldn't save our future even with that sword. I couldn't save anyone. Emmeryn still died, and I'm about to find out what it's like to be snuffed into non-existence."

Puzzles were meant to be solved; pieces were meant to be arranged into something sensible. Something meaningful. Even if their end result was wild and fantastical it was still conclusive--the result of fitting all of the pieces together. There was but one solution gleaned from this puzzle Robin had finished.

The picture Lucina offered was fantastical--but so was divine resurrection, axe-wielding dead, and a slew of other occurrences which had defined Robin's life since he awoke without memory in a Southtown field. He took a breath, like a man preparing to dive deep, and began.

"You're Chrom's future daughter."

Chrom stumbled, knees weak from shock. Lucina simply nodded and cried.


	9. Eighth Turn: Revival Part 2

Robin had nothing to do with whatever--whoever--sent Lucina from the future, and yet two pairs of blue eyes held his gaze as if he had orchestrated their fates. Perhaps that was because incredulous exclamations and fervent denial were legitimate reactions to crazy time-traveling revelations, making Robin's sang froid suspicious.

After nearly fainting for a third time, Chrom managed to hold his torso upright through sheer willpower, ingrained royal bearing, and a well-placed Falchion. Lucina looked more like a lost child than the woman who neatly plunged her sword through men at picnics. Robin probably looked as he always did: prepared for fallout.

"R--Robin...that's not possible..." Chrom wheezed. He kept looking between Robin and Lucina as if he couldn't decide who was more insane.

"It's actually quite logical. Surreal...but logical. I have two questions for Lucina." Robin prompted the woman who sniffled quietly in the cell before them. "Who sent you, and why?"

Lucina dragged chained hands to her face and wiped away tears. "Naga sent me to change our fate." She turned to Chrom. "To stop future events which will end with Grima's resurrection." She inhaled a shaky breath. "I only had one chance."

"So it was a one way trip," Robin stated. "That's why you surrendered yourself. You think our future is destined for ruin no matter what."

"I failed," Lucina acknowledged, desperation in her voice. "Killing you was my last chance to set things right--to ensure someone remains alive to wield Falchion and continue fighting." Her gaze hardened. "And yet you survived a fatal blow. If I was sent to do Naga's will then I can only imagine what keeps you."

Robin didn't know how to respond. Chrom apparently did. "Don't you dare act like Robin's death would solve anything. He saved all of us several times over! I don't know if I believe any of this, but I do know Robin is the only reason I'm standing here today."

Lucina fell silent, defeated. Chrom seethed and began an impatient pace up and down the stone walkway between cells. Robin's mind raced. If Lucina was Chrom's daughter from a future which no longer existed, then how was her continued presence possible?

Robin looked Lucina in the eye. "The future is unwritten. Not even a god can determine our fates. Naga sending you on a one way trip to try and alter history proves that." Then he noticed a peculiarity in the iris of her left eye: a horned curve and teardrop flame with which he was very familiar. "You have Naga's Brand." 

Chrom stopped pacing. "What?" It was the proof they awaited and feared.

Lucina touched the corner of her eye. "Another gift from my father. I'm unquestionably Falchion's heir and Ylisse's crown princess. At least...I was." She paused, teeth pressed against her lower lip. "Now I'm a prisoner here. Though I question if I ever held the power to change fate. Why would Naga send me here only to watch my father choose someone other than my mother?" She shook her head, long blue hair circled quivering shoulders. "I don't understand why everything I did only made things worse."

"Your mother...?" Chrom choked quietly, as if he hadn't considered the possibility. Robin itched to ask who her mother was...or is? But he was afraid he knew her answer.

"The woman you were supposed to marry and have a child with," Lucina said bluntly, eyes clearly casting blame on Robin.

Her story made sense, as crazy as it was, and Robin felt a smidgen of empathy. He couldn't deny she was Chrom's future child--her brand alone proved that--and how lonely and overwhelming her destiny was, burdened with saving a world on the brink of calamity. "Listen." Robin moved closer to Lucina. "It's possible the world you left will never come to be, but I don't think that means you will disappear."

Lucina remained skeptical. "And you're an expert on time travel are you?"

Robin grinned. "As much as anyone can be." He wiped the smirk from his face and added seriously, "I think we should seek answers from Naga."

Silence.

"Was that such a strange thing to say?" Robin announced when he was again met with doubtful stares.

Lucina's high-pitched laugh sounded terrible. Broken. "You can't just _find_ Naga. She finds _you_." 

Chrom agreed though he looked reluctant to say so. "She's right. A priestess of Naga's resides on Valm, a continent across the sea, but we can't just show up asking to see her. Valm isn't our ally. Besides, according to Archanean legend she's in some kind of eternal slumber and will only awaken at the right time." 

"Is this not the right time?" Robin asked expansively. "Our future may still come to the same ruin Lucina's did."

Underneath Robin's calm demeanor was a visceral anxiety. If Grima was destined to revive once again, Robin feared his role in those events. He didn't want to end up on the wrong side. Robin swore he felt the brand on his hand tingle.

"You're saying you want to help me stop Grima's revival?" Lucina's eyebrow perked, simultaneously intrigued and dubious. 

Now was the time to pick sides. And that side was whichever one Chrom stood on.

"Wait wait wait," Chrom objected. "You aren't serious Robin? She tried to kill you! We aren't on her side at all!"

Robin said nothing as he dragged a chair from the far wall and placed it before Lucina's cell. "I think you should sit down," he said to Chrom.

"I have nothing to say to her Robin. She made me her enemy when she attacked you. She _might_ be my child, but I'm not her father." Chrom never said things out of malice or hatred. He was just painfully honest. Still, those candid words from the man Lucina regarded as a father crushed her. 

"I know. You're not her father. That man probably doesn't exist anymore," Robin reasoned, patting the chair back and making meaningful gestures to Chrom. "Still, she has valuable insight to something that concerns all of us."

When Chrom refused to budge, Robin brought his right hand forward. Grima's brand was a weighty reminder of how real Lucina's version of their future was. With a healthy dose of disbelief Chrom sighed and took a seat. Robin brushed Chrom's temple with his lips as he whispered, "Thank you."

Mollified, Chrom turned to Lucina. "Okay. We will listen to everything you have to say. If Robin finds worth in working with you after that then--" He reached for the tactician's hand. "--so will I."

Lucina nodded. She started from the beginning, expressive eyes set on Chrom.

* * * * * * * *

Frederick's biscuits and tea never tasted so good to Robin, who inhaled his food with abandon. Spending their day with Lucina in the dungeons meant they had missed lunch and dinner. Though eating nine biscuits more than made up for Robin's missed meals. Chrom, however, picked morosely at his plate.

"How can you muster an appetite?" Chrom questioned. "I think I'm going to be sick."

"Eat," Robin commanded. "You're going to need food to help me come up with a plan." 

"I've never been terrified of your genius...until now." Chrom's fork clattered against his plate. "For the record I think going to Plegia to ask for ships is insane."

"We need ships if we're going to Valm."

"You really believe what Lucina said? About this Walhart the Conqueror starting the next war? I've never heard of him."

"Well...I was actually planning on commissioning a few warships this year anyway. I always thought it unwise to be totally land-based."

Chrom's indulgent smile appeared with a layer of affection. "Only you Robin. Only you."

They fell into amicable silence until Robin finished his tea. "If Valm decides to attack Plegia is vulnerable as well. Giving us ships works in their favor too."

"Did you forget we just ended a war with them?"

"A war no Plegian really wanted Chrom. Emmeryn's sacrifice reached the hearts of many. Gangrel forced most of those soldiers to fight. Anyway," Robin brushed crumbs from his lap as he stood, "I'm sure we can sweeten the deal."

Chrom decided he couldn't eat and followed Robin's lead. "You're the tactician. So who tells Villus that we're asking Plegia to support us in another war?"

Robin hesitated. There were a number of things to tell the senior advisor but he thought it unwise to reveal their motives just yet. "Ostensibly we are asking for ships in order to better protect our lands. But let's hold off on telling him anything until we have a plan."

Chrom scratched his chin. "He's going to wonder why Lucina's in the dungeon you know. And if he sees her brand..."

He had a point. "Then Lucina should become a Shepherd," Robin decided. It made sense and usually Villus wanted nothing to do with Chrom's ragtag band. 

"What!?"

Robin frowned. "I'm serious. She's fighting for our future too."

"Did you also forget she tried to kill you?"

"A minor inconvenience at this point," Robin stated airily. "Honestly Chrom, we have bigger problems right now."

Chrom covered his face and peeked through parted fingers as if he dared hoped the scene unfolding was a bad dream. Robin placed a hand on Chrom's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Do you trust me?"

Chrom lowered his hands. "You know I do."

"Then we have ships to procure." Robin swept out the door.

"I really hope you don't die again," Chrom muttered before dutifully following the other man's lead. 

In the days that followed, Robin diligently sought tactical resources and detailed a reasonable proposal for Plegian ships. Lucina was formally introduced to the Shepherds as a foreign contact with vital information who entered Ylisse incognito in order to help them. Everyone knew she had served Basilio when she wore her mask and called herself "Marth," and since he was the current leader of Ferox--one of Ylisse's historical allies--no one questioned Lucina's place among the Shepherds.

Only Frederick knew otherwise.

"She's not to be trusted Milord." He stood outside the barracks--now empty--with Chrom.

"Oh I know that," Chrom agreed. "But try telling Robin." Upon hearing his name Robin stopped. He stood just out of sight on the west side of the barracks. Although spying on his friends wasn't intentional, he suddenly wanted to know what Frederick might say to Chrom. 

"Does he not care she stabbed him only a week ago?"

Chrom started for an uncultivated field on the eastern side of the training lawns. "I think he cares, but--I don't know. He feels responsible for Lucina's future somehow. He thinks Grima's revival is connected to the brand on his right hand." Robin hadn't said those exact words to Chrom but he couldn't deny the truth in that statement.

Frederick's next words wavered. "Is it?"

Chrom halted, knee deep in golden grass. On Robin's left the sun slowly descended, igniting Chrom's concerned profile in a red-orange glow. He looked like a true son of Naga, bathed in fiery blaze.

"Maybe?" Chrom revealed. "But if anyone can prevent the catastrophic events Lucina spoke of...it's him. Brand or no."

Frederick stood at Chrom's side. "Perhaps a year ago I would have harbored extreme suspicion. And thought your trust misplaced."

"And now?"

"Now..." Robin pressed flush against the barrack's cobbled wall as Frederick faced the setting sun. "Now I believe you're right. If the Fell Dragon's revival is inevitable, I am glad Robin is with us."

"Aww guys," Robin announced before sliding into view. "I'm blushing."

Despite his surprise, Chrom's face instantly lifted with a wide smile. "How long...? Nevermind. Interested in taking Gaius' place as the Shepherd's spy?"

Robin returned Chrom's enthused smile with a cocky grin. "I'm pretty sure I can handle any job you might have for me."

Frederick looked between them before noisily clearing his throat. "I just remembered Sully is organizing a night-combat demonstration near the stables. I think I might lend her a hand." He bowed politely. "Milord, Robin."

Robin wanted to laugh. "Why so formal Freddy?"

Frederick made a face. "Please don't call me that."

"I think that's a great idea," Chrom proclaimed as he slung an arm around Robin's shoulders.

When Frederick was gone, Robin raised a curious brow towards Chrom. "Did I miss something?"

"Nope. You're just in time for this." 

Chrom pressed his lips against Robin's, firm and confident. Robin smiled into their kiss. They still hadn't told anyone else about their relationship. That's right, he was moderately confident there was a relationship now. They had never displayed affection so openly and Robin wondered if he should worry about prying eyes.

"Stop," Chrom's warm breath puffed against Robin's cheek.

"What?"

"You're thinking about someone seeing us. I don't care."

Robin smoothed his palm against Chrom's neck. "If anyone on the council got wind of this...they would banish me in a heartbeat. Villus might even convince them to take my head before that." Lucina's foreboding tale of a grim future took precedence right now, but that didn't mean Robin forgot the council's demands. They wanted an exalt and an heir. It didn't look like Chrom was going to give them either.

Chrom's warm hand, calloused by years of sword-training, swept through Robin's pale hair. "If we are truly going to Plegia in order to carry out your crazy plan then I think it's time I give the council something they want."

Robin was suddenly worried Chrom didn't feel the same way about their blossoming romance. That was until the prince crushed him into an embrace that made Robin feel desperately loved. "Don't worry, I'm not about to marry some village maiden and create another Lucina."

Robin breathed against Chrom. "So what are you going to do?"

Chrom's blue eyes smiled in a way that reminded Robin of Emmeryn when she did something magnanimous. "I'm going to succeed Emmeryn and become the next Exalt."

A contented sigh escaped Robin as he sank into Chrom's arms. "I think that's wise." Then he propped his chin on Chrom's shoulder. "So...no heirs in your immediate future then?"

"That's right."

"And Lissa...?

"Isn't dating until she's thirty," Chrom quipped without batting an eye.

"Right."

Chrom's cheek rested atop Robin's head. "That worries you? Me not having an heir?"

"No...well yes. I think Ylisse's stability hinges on you or Lissa providing an heir. Especially with what's looming on the horizon. But--"

Robin stopped. Chrom shifted to look him in the eye. "...but?"

"Well...I think I have something. It's far from ideal at the moment but I think there's potential." Robin's idea was still in its infancy so he didn't want to share details just yet. He needed time to determine its validity before involving Chrom or the council.

Somehow he was certain everything would come together in due time.

"Are you saying you can solve all our problems? Because I would believe you. You're--" Chrom held back his next words, cheeks colored by a blush still visible in the waning daylight. After a beat Chrom nodded-- mostly to himself--and seized Robin by the shoulders. "You're the wind at my back and the sword at my side."

A slow smile spread on Robin's stunned face. "Wow. How long have you been waiting to deliver that line?"

Chrom looked away. "Oh my gods Robin, I'm already dying of embarrassment here."

"Then let me save you," Robin said, gently bringing Chrom's face to his. "For as long as you'll have me Chrom, I'm yours," he whispered.

"And I'm yours as well," Chrom confirmed before sealing his words with a kiss. And not just any kiss; a kiss of promises and oaths, loyalty and respect. 

A kiss that spoke of bonds. Unbreakable bonds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I know originally Say'ri tells Chrom about Lady Tiki and the Mila Tree but Marth's ancestors probably heard of her through various legends. I decided Chrom already knew about the Divine Tree through ancient history though he's never seen it. Also I never played the Future Past DLC, so I imagined Lucina's re-telling of events in her future as pretty straight-forward: Emmeryn's death, Chrom's injury, the war with Plegia then Valm. Chrom's death, her mother's death, Basilio's death and losing his sacred stone. Pretty much what we know just from playing the main game. I didn't want to look too deep because time travel is a real mess :(
> 
> Also, there will be an Epilogue to wrap things up!


	10. Epilogue - Rook's Queen

Ylissean coronations were celebrated with impressive amounts of wine and twelve kinds of pie--key components to a good party in Robin's book. The castle ballroom currently hosted bureaucratic officials, countless nobility, and ambassadors from foreign countries Robin forgot existed. Only their Plegian neighbor was mysteriously absent, but its new ruler had forwarded gifts of black silk and expensive paper in lieu of an ambassador. Plegia's lack of representation was probably nothing more than prideful licking of wounds, though Robin had hoped for a chance to begin winning over their closest neighbor. That would have to wait until Chrom's official visit to Plegia in a few short weeks. 

Meanwhile there was enough political schmoozing to keep Robin on his toes. During a rare break he slipped away from the crowded ballroom and onto the western balcony, breathing fresh, cool air under a canopy of stars. Within earshot Robin heard Chrom navigating veiled marriage proposals and extremely distant relatives seeking stewardship. Robin wasn't aware that Chrom's great uncle's second cousin once removed was a minor lord of a mountainous island country between Ylisse and New Tellius. He chuckled when Chrom loudly proclaimed he would love to accept the man's eighth son as his steward, and combat training began everyday at dawn. There was a mumble of retraction and Robin supposed that would deter those seeking Chrom's assistance in climbing the social ladder for a few minutes at least.

At the sound of rustling fabric Robin turned to see Senior Adviser Villus straightening his cloak. The other council elders were happily toasted at this point, having fulfilled their roles earlier in the evening. Robin hoped Villus had imbibed something to make him more pleasant.

"You shouldn't be out here alone when there are diplomats and ambassadors looking for you. You're setting a poor example as our tactical adviser." Villus' eyes narrowed, mouth set in a perpetual frown. "That's bad form for someone who wants to involve Ylisse in another war."

Robin sighed. Villus was definitely sober, or not even alcohol did little to improve the man's sour disposition. Maybe he soured wine into vinegar so had no taste for it.

"I wanted a bit of fresh air is all," Robin returned. "There is time enough to properly speak with our allies."

The aged man snorted. "I'm still not certain I see how you know Valm is going to attack our shores."

"I explained everything in--"

\--your report. Yes. And during our weekly meeting, I know. It's still odd for a sovereign state to make such a bold move without clear motivation." Villus wasn't questioning Robin's reasoning, but flatly refusing to believe it. Just as he did last week and the week before. It helped that both Flavia and Basilio lent credibility to Robin's sources, but Villus wasn't easily convinced. That fact brought a certain amount of respect from Robin, who always approved of questioning sources until everything made sense. In a way, he and Villus were very much alike.

"We know Walhart recently usurped Valm's throne and crushed the resistance. We are his closest opposition, not to mention a likely target for someone amassing power. Stories of the Fire Emblem's power have been around for a millennia. And Valm in particular knows about its potential." Robin leaned against the balcony rails. "I trust my sources."

Villus harrumphed and tightened his cloak. The evening wasn't very cold, it was early September, but Villus' bony arms were easily chilled. Probably from the ice in those veins, Robin chuckled to himself.

"We still have a problem," Villus finally said, thin frame towering beside an equally long, moon-cast shadow. "One which you never solved like you said you would. And I believe involving our new Exalt in a war makes our demand even more vital."

"It does," Robin agreed. "But Chrom is my Exalt now and he isn't ready to provide an heir. I respect those wishes and you have to as well." 

The Councillor was visibly disappointed. There was a lengthy moment of stoic silence before he spoke again. "This will be like Lady Emmeryn all over again," Villus' words cracked. The change in pitch was so slight Robin might have missed it, but he didn't. Sour-faced Villus had a soft spot for Emmeryn. 

Robin's expression softened in kind. "It won't be like that. Chrom will be protected by all of the people who love him, and the loyal soldiers who witnessed Enmeryn's death not long ago." He turned to look over the balcony towards the western hills. "If it remains within my power, Chrom will survive. I will trade my life for his no matter the scenario. All of the Shepherd's would do the same."

"I have no other recourse than to believe you," Villus conceded. "Though now that you mention Exalt Chrom's little company...I wonder how loyal that new girl is? The one with long blue hair."

Robin kept his breath steady, though he wondered if the old man's wrinkled gaze noticed his hands gripping the railing too tight. "You mean Lucina?"

Villus' bushy eyebrow lifted. "Yes. She's new isn't she?" he asked slowly.

"She was a contact during the Plegian war," Robin explained coolly. "We trust her."

"Well I hope so. She's at arms length of our new Exalt." He peered down at Robin.

"We trust her," Robin repeated.

For a long, uncomfortable moment Villus stoically stared into the night sky, arms crossed and face contorted into the lemony freshness Robin had come to expect. The tactician peered into those unmoving features half expecting the man asleep with his eyes open. "She bears a remarkable resemblance to Lady Meissa," Villus mused quietly, as if he hadn't meant to say that aloud. 

Suddenly the Councillor didn't seem so prickly. He just looked...old. "Lady Meissa...?"

"Lord Krosus' sister."

"Lord Chrom...has an aunt?" _Then shouldn't she be here?_ He wanted to add.

Villus looked uncomfortable. "Had an aunt. She was betrothed to a distant prince when she was very young; died in childbirth long ago. Of course everyone forgot about her." Those pinched eyes grew wistful and the perpetual wrinkles that molded his brow flattened. To the casual observer he just looked less constipated than usual, but to Robin...Villus might as well have shed tears. He didn't know the story behind Lady Meissa and why no one remembered her. 

But Villus obviously carried a fondness, and Robin never thought it was possible for something as vague as a distant memory to melt the elder's icy heartstrings. He had to know more.

"Why does no one speak of her?"

Villus startled from a reverie he hadn't intended. Especially in front of Robin. That was clear as soon as his brow wrinkled and he barked, "It was a long time ago. Young people have the memory spans of goldfish, that's why! Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to Lord Senes and _stall_ until you decide to meet him properly."

"I will be right there," Robin replied. 

The Councillor huffed and turned away. Robin's mind turned over a thousand new faucets, each surface alight with possibility.

Chrom used to have an aunt!

An aunt no one remembered, except dour-faced Villus. Which actually made these new faucets shine with so much more potential. He tossed his head back, smile wide as he thanked the stars twinkling innocently above.

This was what he had waited for. Then his face fell, and he almost apologized to the moon above that he reveled in what was certainly a young girl's sad, unspoken story. He assured the heavens he was going to give her a better story, something in which she was remembered.

After a brief moment he turned to head back inside. Only to see Sumia stumbling on her high heels.

"Ooh..these shoes! I hate fancy heels. Never did get the hang of them," she blushed, straightening out. "Hi Robin."

"Sumia," he smiled back. "Getting some fresh air?"

"Actually I wanted to talk. Is...that okay?"

Robin looked behind her and saw Villus sending death glares in Robin's direction while shouldering Lord Senes' small talk. He smirked, "I have all the time in the world."

Sumia looked relieved, taking a step forward only to stumble again. "That's it! Off you go." And pulled off her elegant shoes, wiggling toes with a little sigh. "That's better."

She moved easily towards the balcony rails. "It's a good night for Chrom's coronation," she began. "Good things come when moonflowers bloom."

Robin joined her in overlooking the castle gardens. "I didn't know that."

"Oh it's not an important thing to know," she waved a hand. "Not like the things you know anyway."

"It sounds like something I should know. We need to see good in the things around us. A hard road lies ahead." He suddenly hated how dire things sounded, so he asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"Lucina," she replied, gaze somewhere over the garden.

At first Robin panicked. Did Sumia know? How could she know!? Did this somehow prove Sumia was Lucina's mother after all?

"Are you alright?" He heard Sumia ask.

Robin exhaled slowly. "Yeah, sorry. Too much wine I think. So, do you have a problem with Lucina?"

"Oh no no. Nothing like that. I think she's a gem. It's just...what do you know about her past? She never talks about herself."

"I know she grew up with a lot of hardship."

"Did she lose her mother?"

"Why do you...?"

"I just...I think I can tell. The way she looks at me sometimes when I patch up an injury or she comes into the kitchen while I'm baking pies. She looks so--" Sumia sighed, wringing her hands. "She looks so heartbroken."

Robin had never asked Lucina who her mother was in her timeline, though he strongly suspected it was Sumia. Gentle Sumia who loved Chrom and was probably a natural mother. He still felt remorse, having taken away Sumia's potential family, but Chrom reassured Robin day and night that no one else had a chance. Chrom was wholeheartedly devoted to Robin and didn't look twice at anyone else. The Shepherds knew about their relationship, and understood its need for secrecy. 

Sumia had smiled at Robin the day Chrom announced his devotion. A smile that shattered Robin's resolve until Chrom kissed away its memory later that night.

"Robin...?" Sumia asked, concerned.

"She is," he began suddenly. "Heartbroken. She lost her parents."

"That's so sad. I want to do something for her. Cook a childhood favorite maybe? I just...want to see her smile."

"Make your specialty."

"Rhubarb pie?"

Robin nodded. "I think she will love that."

Sumia was smiling now. "I think you're right. Comfort food is best. Thank you."

Robin stopped at arms length, wrestling his guilty conscience. "...Sumia. I--" What could he say? An apology felt shallow and...wrong. He didn't want to apologize for loving someone.

A light came into her eyes and she acknowledged Robin's unspoken words. "You don't have to feel guilty Robin. We love who we love. There's no point in feeling sorry for me. Lord Chrom is happy now, immeasurably so." She smiled so prettily. "Don't wilt that happiness with sorrow for me."

Robin closed his eyes. "Thank you." He bowed to her, a gesture of respect that felt tiny in comparison to Sumia's altruism. He left her alone after that, and she gazed across the moonlit countryside with an aura of peace Robin envied.

* * * * * * * * *

"I had an aunt?" Chrom asked quizzically. "How did I not know this?" He sat on a chair beside his bed, adjusting boot buckles. Robin sat on the bed with a comically large tome in his lap.

Robin shrugged. "I did some digging and found out your father became her guardian after your grandfather's death. He sent her to some princeling in southern Elibe when she was seven years old." 

"Sounds like something my dad would do," Chrom muttered.

"Anyway, if we spin this right, everything falls into place. Boom!" Robin smacked his hands together. "No more questions about your successor."

Chrom scratched his head. "I don't follow."

Robin leaned in close. "Lucina is your aunt's child. Your cousin! We have to fiddle a bit with the timing but...it all fits with the proper paperwork."

Chrom looked up, mouth slackened and brows arched. "That's...what? My cousin? Wait--" He stood from his chair. "You want Lucina to be my heir!?"

Robin blinked owlishly. "Yes, why did you think I was bringing this up? We need to get someone blood-related to succeed you eventually. And she _is_ your direct descendant. It's perfect."

"Perfectly insane. Robin, love, I think you're overworked."

Robin laughed. "You'll see, it will work! Anyway I just started researching the details and well, this is all hinging on our surviving Grima's revival and all--but it will work."

Chrom sighed. "Why is this so important to you?"

"Because I want you to have everything," Robin stated as if it was obvious.

Chrom kissed Robin's forehead. "I do have everything. Right here."

"That's sweet," Robin patted Chrom's hand. "But clearly I'm in this for the long haul. And that means someone needs to take your place so I can have you all to myself someday."

A slow smile spread from Chrom's lips until he began laughing, tears of mirth welling at the corners of his eyes. Robin cocked his head.

"I didn't think my undying devotion to you was so funny..."

"No, no--" Chrom breathed between fits of laughter. "I love that you think so far ahead. It's just--" he finally caught his breath and sighed. "I suddenly can't wait for the day I give up the throne. I want to see the world with you. Not in an army marching to war, but as lovers sharing a journey together."

Robin blushed despite himself. "I'm glad you found me that day, asleep in the field outside Southtown. I can't imagine my world without you in it."

"Nor can I imagine my life without you," Chrom agreed, smile reaching his eyes.

They shared wordless adoration until Robin broached quietly, "So...Lucina as your cousin. Yes? No? Shut up and kiss me?"

"Can I pick more than one?" Chrom whispered, leaning close.

"Greedy," Robin teased, meeting Chrom half-way.

Chrom's lips brushed against Robin's as he exhaled a quiet _yes_ before closing the distance. Robin didn't know if he and Chrom would survive to see their shared future. Terrible shadows loomed over that horizon.

However, in the warmth of Chrom's embrace Robin found hope shining eternal.


End file.
